Helping Elizabeth
by Siriusly Insane Chick
Summary: The war has started. Elizabeth goes on her mission to find the Horcruxes with some unexpected help. How could that change things? And what will happen to Emmett while Elizabeth's gone? Read and find out! Rated T. Sequel to Once Upon an Emmett
1. At the Burrow

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight.**

**It's about time! The sequel to Once Upon an Emmett is here! Yay!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter one – At the Burrow<span>

**3rd Person**

Elizabeth was in Ginny's room at the Burrow. She, Remus, and Sirius had just arrived about an hour ago. Everyone—except Mrs. Weasley—had been in bed by the time they arrived and had insisted on feeding them supper.

She had woken Hermione and Ginny to let them know that Elizabeth was here (causing many squeals of excitement from the other two girls) and had told them not to tell anybody that Elizabeth was here until morning.

"What was it like in the U.S.?" asked Ginny excitedly.

"A lot different from here," Elizabeth laughed. "For one thing I was living in a non magical community 24/7. And the only wizards I had to talk to were Sirius and Remus. But I made some friends, so it wasn't bad."

"Did you meet a boy?" Ginny asked.

Elizabeth smiled softly and looked down at her hands, "Yeah. Emmett. He, uh, he's my boyfriend. He doesn't know that I've left yet.

"What about you, Hermione?" Elizabeth asked. "You and Ron _finally_ get together?"

Hermione blushed hotly and Ginny laughed.

"Yes, we did, thank you!" Hermione said indignantly.

Elizabeth laughed and gave her friend's shoulder a squeeze, "I'm happy for you, 'Mione."

Hermione smiled, "I'm just glad the git finally got up the courage to ask me to Hogsmeade!"

Elizabeth smiled and plopped back against the pillows, "Me too. Everyone could tell that you two liked each other but you two."

Hermione blushed again.

"It's true!" Ginny laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and wrapped an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders, "It's good to have you back, thought. Hogwarts wasn't the same without you."

"No, it wasn't," Ginny agreed.

Elizabeth smiled and leaned her head against Hermione's shoulder tiredly, "It was odd not having you two to talk to all the time."

"Oh, I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Hermione said.

Elizabeth glared at her, "You try having only Remus and Sirius to talk to half the time!"

They both grimaced and Elizabeth smirked, "That's what I thought."

Hermione smiled, "Well, let's get some sleep. You look like you're about to drop dead, Elizabeth. And you're going to need your energy tomorrow, because everyone's going to be ecstatic to see you."

Elizabeth grinned tiredly, "Yeah, I guess I will…"

Hermione and Ginny went to their own beds and they all climbed under the covers.

"Good night, all!" Ginny cried dramatically.

"Shh!" Hermione said. "Do you want to wake the whole house?"

Ginny grinned and stage whispered, "Good night, all!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and plopped down in the bed, "Good night, prats."

"Good night, bookworm," Elizabeth and Ginny answered simultaneously.

* * *

><p>"Good morning," Elizabeth yawned, coming down the stairs and into the kitchen the next morning.<p>

The entire Weasley family—bar Percy—Hermione, Fleur, and Kingsley were all seated around the kitchen table, which had been enlarged to fit them all. The all—minus Hermione, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and Kingsley—looked up in surprise at the sound of her voice.

"Whoa!" Ron yelled. "Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth chuckled and pulled her hair into a pony tail, "Yes, Ron, I am Elizabeth."

Ron and the twins jumped up to hug her.

"When did you get here?" Ron asked, holding her at arms' length.

"About two o'clock in the morning," she yawned again. "Sirius, Remus, and I were all tired, so we went straight to bed."

"Sirius and Remus are here too?" Charlie asked.

Elizabeth nodded.

"Yes, we are here," Remus said brightly, coming down the stairs. He gave Elizabeth a quick hug, "Good morning, cub."

"Morning," she said. "Sirius not up yet?"

"You know Sirius," he shrugged. "Won't wake up until you poor a bucket of ice cold water on his head and I didn't have to heart to do that this morning."

"We do!" the twins said. "Can we? Please?"

"Knock yourselves out," Remus said. "If Sirius doesn't do that for you," he added under his breath, chuckling as the twins ran up the stairs.

Elizabeth, who'd heard him, snorted.

"Why don't you come have some breakfast?" Mrs. Weasley asked, bustling to the stove to get some more bacon.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley/Molly," Remus and Elizabeth said as they sat at the table. Remus sat at the end and Elizabeth sat beside Bill.

"Hi, Bill," Elizabeth said. "How are you?"

Bill chuckled, "I'm good. You?"

"Oh, I'm great," Elizabeth said, leaning back in her chair and thanking Mrs. Weasley again as she brought her a plateful of bacon, eggs, and sausage.

"Guess what!" Fleur said, excitedly.

Elizabeth thought for a moment, "Voldemort got a nose transplant?"

Everyone around the table snorted. "No," Fleur said, a beautiful smile on her face. "Guess again."

Elizabeth sighed and looked up at the ceiling, a fake thoughtful expression on her face, "Lucius Malfoy danced around Hogsmeade in a pink ball gown, singing a love song?"

Everyone around the table laughed at this.

"No!" Fleur said, guess again.

"Let me see," Elizabeth tapped her chin thoughtfully, "Um… you and Bill are getting married?"

"Yes!" Fleur said. "The wedding's in a few weeks."

"How'd you guess?" Bill asked.

"The fact that you and Fleur are holding hands and the giant engagement ring on her finger helped."

"Oh."

"Yeah!"

"AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH! FRED! GEORGE! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Remus snorted, "I'm guessing the finally got him up."

Fred and George came tearing into the kitchen. They jumped behind Elizabeth chair.

"He won't kill you!" said George.

"Help us!" said Fred.

Elizabeth snorted and stood, taking her breakfast with her, "You two were stupid enough to get yourselves in this mess. Get yourselves out."

She walked over and sat down at George's normal spot, on the complete opposite side of the table.

Fred and George whimpered as they heard the heavy stopping of Sirius' footsteps as he came down the stairs.

Sirius walked in, sopping from head to toe. "You two!" he snarled, pointing at the twins. "Come here!"

Fred and George shook their heads frantically, hiding behind their father.

"It would be best to go over there," Elizabeth advised. "It'll be less painful if he doesn't have to chase you."

Fred and George stood shakily and hesitantly walked over. Sirius pulled out his wand, pointed it at them, and murmured an incantation.

"What? Why are you all laughing?"

"What did he do?"

They were dressed in a pink and purple polka-dotted dresses, their hair was lime green, and their skin was neon orange.

"Go… go look in a mirror," Charlie gasped.

The twins darted upstairs and after a minute, they heard the twins' horrified screams. This caused a new wave of laughter around the table. Sirius at next to Elizabeth in Fred's vacated seat with a very smug look and took a piece of bacon off of Elizabeth's plate.

"Good morning, Sirius," Arthur greeted.

"Arthur," Sirius greeted back.

The twins burst back in the room. "When will this wear off?" Fred yelped.

"When I want it to," Sirius shrugged, making the others laugh.

"What?" George cried.

"Okay, how about this," Sirius said. "When I have seven twin and water free morning, I'll take it off."

The twins nodded fervently. "We'll start now!" And they sprinted up the stairs.

Everyone laughed.

"It's good to have you three back, 'Lizabeth, Sirius, Remus," Ron laughed.

They laughed too and said simultaneously, "It's good to be back."

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><p><strong>HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! It's finally here!<strong>

**I actually have it up faster than I thought I would.**

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**-The Girl with the Large Glasses**


	2. Where is She?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight.**

**Thanks to those who reviewed!**

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_Not So Sirius_ – :)

**Here's chapter two!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter two – Where is She?<span>

"Come on, Elizabeth, pick up!" Emmett moaned, dialing his girlfriend's number one more time.

"Hey, it's Elizabeth. Sorry I missed your—"

Emmett shut the phone with a snap. "Why won't she pick up?" he moaned.

Edward, who sat in an arm chair by the fire, looked at his brother amusedly, "There are a number of possible reasons: her phone isn't on, her phone's dead, she's just tired of talking to you—"

"Ha, ha, ha," Emmett rolled his eyes. He opened his phone to text her one more time.

_Hey, babe, you okay?_

Edward rolled his eyes, "Honestly, Emmett. If you keep calling and texting her like you are, she really _is_ going to get tired of you. Seriously, how long has it been since you last saw her? Two hours?"

Emmett glared at him, "How many times did you text and call Bella after she was attacked by James?"

Edward rolled his eyes and looked back down at the book he was reading.

"That's what I thought," Emmett snorted, looking back down at his phone, as if willing Elizabeth to call him.

"Carlisle!" Alice said, coming in the house. "Bella and I want to talk to you!"

"I'm in my office," Carlisle replied. His voice sounded odd, strained.

"I'm going over there," Emmett announced to no one, standing.

"Good luck!" Edward called. "Don't come crying to me when she kicks you out!"

"Shut up!" Emmett called back, blurring out the door.

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><p>"What did you want?" Carlisle asked as Bella and Alice walked in, looking up from a yellow piece of parchment.<p>

Bella lowered her voice so that the people downstairs couldn't hear, "Elizabeth told us. About the war."

Alice nodded in agreement.

Carlisle looked more tired and worn than they had ever seen him. He leaned back in his chair, "She told you everything?"

They nodded. "She told us how a battle could start at any time," Bella said, "and how, when it did, she, Remus, and Sirius would have to leave. She said that she told you and that you promised to keep Emmett from coming after her."

"Yeah," Alice agreed. "We promised her that too."

"Carlisle," Bella said carefully. "Is that Elizabeth's owl?"

The snowy white owl, which was perched on the window, hooted.

Carlisle nodded and handed over the parchment, "Elizabeth just sent me this."

Bella took the parchment and read aloud, "_'Carlisle. There was an attack at Hogwarts. Dumbledore's dead. Sirius, Remus, and I have had to leave. I'm so sorry. I'll keep in touch as best I can. Thank you so much, Carlisle. Please, keep Emmett from coming after me. Elizabeth.'_ Oh, no…"

"Oh, my God…" Alice murmured. "This soon? She only told us two hours ago!"

Carlisle sighed, "We'll have to keep a close eye on Emmett. Make sure he doesn't go off on some rescue mission. As much as I _hate_ not sending someone after her, I'm going to keep my promise."

As soon as he finished saying that, the office door opened, and a furious Jasper and a pissed Edward stood in front of them.

Carlisle sighed again and ran a hand over his face, "I assume you heard?"

"Ever bit," Jasper agreed. "And Elizabeth is like my little sister, so I suggest you tell me the whole story."

Edward nodded.

Alice and Bella looked at Carlisle and he shrugged.

"Might as well," he said.

And so they started the story.

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><p>Emmett arrived at Elizabeth's house expecting to see her bedroom window open—which was always a sign that he was welcome to come in—and Elizabeth sitting on her bed, reading a book.<p>

But the window was shut tight and Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.

Emmett frowned and went around front. Elizabeth's Ford and Sirius' and Remus' trucks were all out front. The light in the living room was on.

Emmett walked up to the door and knocked. He waited for Remus to call "Coming!" or Elizabeth to yell "Just a minute!" but they didn't. No one answered.

It was eerily quiet. Emmett was seriously staring to get worried. He tried to open the door, but it was lock tight.

Emmett sighed. They were probably somewhere deep in the woods where he couldn't see or hear them, practicing some magic that was too advanced and dangerous to do in the house. They'd done it before: gone off for the weekend to practice 'defense magic' as Elizabeth had called it and been back before school that Monday.

_Yeah,_ he thought to himself. _She'll be back to school on Monday…_

But Elizabeth wasn't back to school on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday.

To say that Emmett was freaking out was the understatement of the century.

On Thursday, Eva and Leah approached him.

"Hey," he said. "Have either of you heard from 'Lizabeth?"

Eva shook her head, "We were hoping that you had heard from her. I've called and text her a thousand times since Monday and she hasn't called or text back yet."

"Same here," said Leah. "You?"

He shook his head, "I haven't seen her since she came home after the accident." He stood, "You know what, screw it, I'm going over there now."

"But it's only lunch!" said Eva.

"It's Elizabeth," he said simply, striding out to his truck.

"Hey!" Edward caught his arm. "You, me, and Jasper are going hunting. Now."

"Edward," Emmett whined, trying to shake him off.

"I'm not taking no for an answer," Edward said, pulling him to his Volvo."

"But my Jeep!"

"Alice is bringing it home."

Emmett sighed in defeat and slumped into the back seat. He took out his phone.

"Nope," said Jasper, grabbing it and putting it in his jacket pocket. "No phones."

Emmett moaned and leaned back.

"I just wonder what's wrong," he muttered a good thirty minutes later. "She would never _not_ text or call me back unless something was up."

He didn't see the subtle looks that Jasper and Edward exchanged.

"Don't worry about it right now," Jasper finally said. "You're eyes have been darkening for the past couple of days. Let's just hunt and you can worry when we get back."

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><p><strong>And there's chapter two! It was crappy and short, but I had no clue what to do with this chapter! <strong>

**Like I said, I'm on Twitter now. My username is SiriuslyInsane1. Please follow me! I'll tell you if and when I've updated, what I've updated, and (should I _not_ update for a lengthy period of time) my reasons for not updating.**

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**-The Girl with the Large Glasses**


	3. On the Run

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight.**

**Thanks to those who reviewed!**

_Rori Potter_ - :)

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I'm going to stop talking about all the reasons I don't like Edward Cullen before I start ranting. But thanks for reviewing! Keep it up!

**Here's chapter three!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter three – On the Run<span>

It had been a few weeks since she had first arrived at the Burrow, and Elizabeth was slowly reaching the point of misery. Don't misunderstand; the Weasleys were the family she never had and she loved them. They could make her laugh when she wanted to cry and new just what to say when she was having a bad day.

But the problem was that Emmett wasn't with her.

It was funny, how she had come to be so dependent on him over the course of nine months. He was her rock, her anchor, her shelter in the storm. And he wasn't here to help her through all of this.

She would often scold herself when she would catch herself wishing that he was here. He was safe, that was all that mattered.

_He's a vampire_, a little voice in her head argued with her. _He can take care of himself. You're only hurting him more by keeping him in the dark._

_If that's the price for keeping him safe, I'll pay it,_ she argued right back. _I've lost too many people that I care about; I'm not losing him too._

_You're being selfish._

_I—_

"Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth quickly hid the picture of her and Emmett that she had been looking at under her pillow and looked up as Sirius walked into her room.

"Hey, Sirius," she greeted with a forced smile. "What up?"

Sirius sat down beside her and—before she knew what was happening—seized the picture from under her pillow.

"Sirius!" she moaned, trying in vain to snatch the picture back.

Sirius gave her a sad look, "You really miss him, don't you?"

Elizabeth stopped reaching for the picture and put her hands in her lap. "Yeah," she said softly. "I do. I love him. you can't imagine how awkward it is for me to admit that to you, but it's the truth."

Sirius sighed and pulled her closer. He kissed the top of her head, "I'm sorry you have to make the decision between your boyfriend and the world. If I'd had control of your fate, it never would've been like this…"

Elizabeth blinked back the tears that she'd been holding back since they'd first gotten here and let her godfather hold her.

"You know," she said, wiping her tears away. "Sometimes, I swear, I can hear mom talking to me."

"Really?" Sirius asked interestedly. "What does she say?"

"Well…" Elizabeth hesitated. "It started most recently. Like just after we arrived here. I was thinking about how Emmett was probably on a rampage looking for me. But I told myself that I was protecting him, and her voice just popped into my head, saying that I was only hurting him more. She said that I was being selfish."

Sirius shook his head, "Lily would never call you selfish. Never. Not unless she had a really good reason."

"But that's it's, Sirius!" Elizabeth said, sitting up and facing him. "What if I am being selfish? What if I am only hurting him more? I-It hurts knowing that I'm hurting him more than I'm protecting him, and hearing it coming from my mother doesn't help!"

"Hey, hey," Sirius pulled her closer and let her cry into his chest. "It'll all work out, pup. I know it will."

He could only hope that, that was true.

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><p>Elizabeth sighed in frustration as she looked down at the letter that Dumbledore had left her in his will. Where Horcruxes real? And if they were, how was Riddle able to make so many? According to Dumbledore, splitting your soul so many times…<p>

"It just doesn't make since!" she cried as Ron and Hermione walked back into her room. "He wants me to track down these Horcruxes and destroy them, and he only wants me to tell you two!"

Hermione frowned and sat beside her, rereading the letter for the hundredth time. "You're right," she said softly. "It doesn't make since, but it's the only lead we've got to destroying Riddle once and for all. We've got to consider all of our options."

Ron picked up the Snitch, "And what's with the Snitch? _I open at the close._ Seriously? How much more vague could Dumbledore get?"

Elizabeth plopped back against her pillows, "I've got to come up with a plan. If Horcruxes are real, then I've got to get rid of them. I'll have to leave."

Ron and Hermione stared at her. "What about us?" Hermione said. "We're coming too!"

Ron nodded in agreement.

"No, you're not," Elizabeth sat up. "Hear me out," she said as Hermione opened her mouth to protest. "Do you not remember what happened last time I let you come with me? You were almost killed! I'm not letting that happen again."

"Elizabeth, you hear us out," Ron said. "Everyday, Death Eaters are getting more powerful. Everyday, we—_you_—are in more and more danger. We're not safe, even here. If you're going to go out and put your life in danger for the sake of the world, then we're going to be with you every step of the way. No questions asked."

Hermione stared at Ron in shocked silence. "Wow," she finally said quietly. "I didn't know you were capable of that, Ron."

But Elizabeth gave a small sob and launched herself at her friend. Ron wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her close. "Thank you," she whispered, tightening her arms around Ron's neck. "Thank you."

Hermione quickly joined the hug, "We're here, Lizzy. All the way."

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><p>"<em>The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."<em>

"Elizabeth, come on!" Hermione screamed, grabbing hers and Ron's hands and pulling them toward the Apparation spot. They reached the spot quickly, despite the chaos around them. Elizabeth scanned the crowd quickly and saw Remus battling a masked Death Eater. He quickly took the Death Eater down and his eyes were immediately drawn to Elizabeth.

He saw were they were and his eyes immediately widened. "ELIZABETH!" he shouted, sprinting toward them.

"Hermione, now!" Elizabeth cried.

Hermione spun them quickly and with a pop, they were gone.

The landed in front of a coffee shop.

"Where are we?" Ron said shakily.

"London," Elizabeth said, looking around. "I used to come here during the summer when I couldn't stand the Dursleys. Why here, Hermione."

"I could think of anything," Hermione said. "So I just thought about a coffee shop and we landed here."

"We might as well get something to eat," Elizabeth said. "Talk about our next move."

She led the way inside and they sat at a booth. The waitress came up to them, looking bored. "What'll it be?" she asked.

"Just a blue berry muffin and some water for me," Elizabeth said.

"Same," Hermione said.

"Same," Ron said, looking uncertain.

The waitress looked as if she could roll her eyes as she walked away.

"Where will we go?" Ron asked in a low voice so that the waitress wouldn't hear.

"I think I might know a place," Elizabeth said as two guys walked in and sat at the counter.

"Where?"

"Not here," Elizabeth whispered, staring suspiciously at the two guys. "Let's keep a watch on those two. They look familiar. And not in a good way."

Hermione and Ron nodded. The waitress came back with their muffins and waters. "Here you go," she said, setting them down.

"Thank you," Elizabeth and Hermione said. Ron mumbled a 'thanks.'

Elizabeth kept a close eye on the two men as she ate her muffin. She saw the guy on the left's hand twitch.

And that's when she noticed it. A wand sheath, strapped to his waist.

"Duck!" she yelled as two Stunning Spells flew at them. She forced Ron and Hermione's heads under the table as the spells hit the top of the seats.

She already had her wand out and was firing Stunning and Disarming spells at the men. The men dove behind the counter, just barely dodging her spells.

"_Stupefy_!" she yelled, hitting one of them as he popped up to fire another spell. He toppled over the counter and to the floor.

Hermione fired her own spell, hitting the other man as well.

The waitress came out of the back room, looking bewildered.

"You need to get out of here," Elizabeth said softly. When the waitress didn't move, she roared, "GO!"

The waitress was gone like a flash of lightning.

"Yeah," Elizabeth said, examining the first guy's face, and then the others, "Yeah, I remember them. They were there during the Third Task. They had each been hit with one of my spells so hard their Masks fell off. We need to erase their memories. Just of us being here. We don't want Riddle to know that we were here."

Hermione stepped forward but Elizabeth shook her head, "It's alright, Hermione. I'll do it."

Hermione nodded and stepped back into Ron's arms. Elizabeth pointed her wand at the first Death Eater's head, took a deep, calming breath, and murmured, _"Obliviate."_ She did the same with the other.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked when Elizabeth leaned against the counter.

Elizabeth nodded, "Yeah. I just don't like taking people's memories. No matter who they are."

They stood in solemn silence for a long while and then—

"Elizabeth."

The voice came from the doorway. Elizabeth recognized it immediately. She spun around and whispered, "Oh, no."

Ron and Hermione turned. "Who're you?" Ron snarled, pulling Elizabeth behind him slightly.

"Ron," Elizabeth said quietly, but was cut off by the figure in the doorway.

"_I _am Emmett Cullen," Emmett said, his eyes black and vicious as he glared murderously at Ron. "And _she_ is my girlfriend, who happens to be missing. Now I suggest you _back off."_

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><p><strong>DON'T WORRY! EVERYTHING WILL BE EXPLAINED NEXT CHAPTER! <strong>

**I hope you all enjoyed.**

**Review!**

**-The Girl with the Large Glasses**


	4. Finding Elizabeth

**I OWN NOTHING!  
><strong>

**Yeah… I was going to update Jacob's Angel next, but I couldn't help it. **

**Thanks to those who reviewed!**

TheBlackSeaReaper - You'll just have to read and find out! :) Keep reviewing!

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Totter4 - Dont' worry. There will be Remus/Tonks, I'm just not sure how to enter it. The can't exactly just get married if they never got together in the first place and if they haven't talked in a long time... Hmm...

XlaraC - Heh, heh, heh... Keep reviewing! :)

**Here's chapter four.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter four – Finding Elizabeth<span>

It had been exactly three weeks, four days, and three hours since Elizabeth had last been seen and Emmett was slowly reaching the point of hysteria. He now understood what Edward was saying when he said what Bella did to him.

Eva and Leah had approached him many times at school to ask if he had seen or heard from their friend. Each time, he had let them down by saying that no, he hadn't.

Emmett had tried many times to go to Elizabeth's house, but his family had always been there to tell him that he needed to do something.

"_Emmett, you need to hunt."_

"_Emmett, you've got homework."_

"_Emmett, will you help me with the garden?"_

"_Emmett, will you go to the store? We haven't been in a while."_

Etc., etc.

But no one was going to stop him this time. He was going to find out where his girlfriend was, whether they wanted him to or not.

But sure enough, as soon as he walked out to his Jeep, jasper was waiting for him.

"Hey, Emmett, you want to—"

"No."

Jasper faltered, "…No?"

"No," Emmett said shortly. "Now will you please get out of my way? I'm going to Elizabeth's."

Jasper hesitated and then said quietly, "I can't let you go to Elizabeth's, Emmett."

Emmett grabbed the collar of Jasper's shirt and in less than a second, had Jasper pushed up against a tree with his feet off the ground. "Why the hell not?" he snarled. "I've noticed how whenever I even _think_ about going to Elizabeth's, you and everyone else are always there to drag me off to do something stupid. Do you know why she's not answering my calls and not calling me back? Do you know why she hasn't showed up for school for over two weeks? Hmm? DO YOU?"

Jasper was quiet for a long moment, and then said quietly, "No, Emmett, I don't know."

Emmett glared at him for a moment longer and then let him go. Without another word, he hopped in his Jeep and sped down the road towards Elizabeth's house.

"Shit," Jasper cursed, blurring into the house.

* * *

><p>"Elizabeth!" Emmett pounded on the door. "Sirius! Remus! Open up!"<p>

Still, there was no answer. Emmett growled and said, "Sorry I have to do this."

Then, he rammed his body into the door and blasted it open. "Remus!" he called. "Sirius! ELIZABETH! Where are you?"

There was still no answer. Emmett blurred into the living room. There was no one there. He went to the kitchen, the study, Sirius' room, Remus' room, but no one was there.

"ELIZABETH?" he bellowed. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

He blurred into her room and looked around frantically. Elizabeth was nowhere in sight. He took a quick whiff of air. Elizabeth's sent was barely there, almost as if she wasn't there at all.

As if she hadn't been there for weeks.

"Damn it!" Emmett yelled, picking up a picture frame and hurtling it at the wall. The glass shattered into a million pieces, scattering across the floor. Emmett slid down against the wall and pulled his knees to his chest. He leaned over and picked up the picture that had been in the picture frame.

The picture was of Elizabeth, Sirius, and Remus. They were standing outside of a large castle, grins on their faces. Elizabeth was wearing jeans and an old T-shirt that was tied in the back. Her hair was pulled up in a pony tail and her eyes were twinkling.

"Elizabeth," Emmett whispered, gently touching her face in the picture. "Where are you?"

And it hit him like a ton of bricks. His family was doing everything they could to keep him from coming here, to keep him from seeing if Elizabeth was still here or not. They would drag him off as soon as he walked out to his Jeep to come here. Every single one of them.

They _knew_. They knew were Elizabeth was.

Emmett stood, his eyes black as coal. They may not know it yet, but he was going to find out where his girlfriend was. They were going to tell him, whether he had to force it out of them or not.

He folded the picture, put it in his shirt pocket, and blurred out the door, not even bothering to drive home in his Jeep.

* * *

><p>Emmett didn't even try to hide his thoughts as he approached the house. He knew that Edward could hear him loud and clear by now, and wanted him to know what Emmett was looking for.<p>

The door to the large house banged open and no one seemed surprised to see the livid Emmett standing in the doorway.

"You know," he snarled. "You know where she is. You knew she was gone. And you didn't tell me."

"We couldn't tell you, Emmett," Carlisle said quietly.

"Why the hell not?" Emmett shouted. "She's my fucking girlfriend! You didn't think I had the right to know."

"You don't understand, Emmett, please," Bella pleaded.

"You're going to tell me where she is," Emmett said softly. "_Now_."

Edward looked at Carlisle, as if listening to his answer.

Finally, Edward sighed, "Fine we'll tell you—" he held up a hand to stop the protests that were coming from everyone but Carlisle and Emmett "—but you have to promise not to overreact and you have to promise not to do anything stupid."

Emmett glowered at him and then said quietly, "I can't promise you that I won't overreact or do something stupid, but I will promise that I'll do my best."

Edward nodded in approval, and looked at Carlisle, "She told you everything first. Perhaps you should tell him."

Carlisle nodded, took a large breath, and began the story.

* * *

><p>"It's rather simple, really," Edward said, handing Emmett a duffle bag. "Memorize her scent thoroughly, and then let your nose guide you. I know it makes you sound like a blood hound, but it's the truth."<p>

Emmett nodded, took out Elizabeth's favorite jacket, and took a large sniff of it. He sighed as he exhaled.

"Thanks, Edward," Emmett said softly. "I'm sorry I freaked out when you told me and ripped your arm off."

Edward grinned and rubbed his still sore arm, "Ah, it's alright. I would've done the same thing, maybe worse, to you if you told me that Bella was caught in something like this. So no hard feelings."

Emmett grinned and clapped him on the back. "Wish me luck," he said to his family, who all stood on the front porch with him.

"Hey," Jasper caught his arm. "You bring her back alive. Elizabeth is like a sister/daughter to all of us. You're not the only one that cares about her."

The others nodded in agreement.

Emmett grinned, "I'll be back with her as soon as I can. I'll keep in touch as much as I can."

And he was gone.

* * *

><p>Emmett stopped for a moment and took a large whiff of air again. He could smell her. She wasn't too far away. Maybe five miles…<p>

He took off in a blur again. He'd been looking for his lost love for a little over three days. It had taken a while to get this far. It had taken a while to get overseas, and then it took him a little while to find her scent again.

Emmett new that if his heart was still beating, it would be pounding itself out of his chest right now. He was so close. He'd come so far. After a little over three weeks, Emmett was finally going to see her again…

He came to a stop at the end of a quiet street. All down the street were houses and businesses. Nearly every one of the buildings had all of its lights turned out. All except a little coffee shop.

He stood there for a moment and was about to take another whiff of air when there was an explosion from inside the coffee shop. There were screams and shouts.

"_Stupefy!"_ he heard a voice shout.

Emmett stood frozen. He recognized that voice…

There were more explosions from the coffee shop. And then, all the sudden, they stopped.

Emmett cautiously approached the small shop. "You need to go," the voice said. "GO!"

A woman came scrambling out of the shop. She was a waitress, Emmett could tell just by her outfit.

She saw him and stammered, "She—they—he—don't do in there!"

And she was gone.

Emmett continued forward, cautiously, slowly.

"Are you alright?" a male voice asked.

"Yeah," that same voice said. "I just don't like taking people's memories. No matter who they are."

And then he saw her. She was with two other people. A boy and a girl. The boy had red hair and he was tall, taller than Emmett (and that's saying something), and he had blue eyes. The girl had bushy brown hair and hazel eyes. Elizabeth's silky black hair was pulled into a messy pony tail. She was wearing a rumpled T-shirt and torn jeans. She was leaning heavily against the counter.

He had found her.

"Elizabeth," he said.

She spun around, saw him, and whispered, "Oh, no."

The boy and girl turned. "Who're you?" the boy snarled, pulling Elizabeth behind him slightly.

Emmett's eyes turned black at the nerve of the teenager. He had the _audacity_ to even _try_ and hide Elizabeth from him? He thought that he could take Elizabeth away from him and get away with it?

"Ron," Elizabeth said quietly, but Emmett cut her off.

"_I_ am Emmett Cullen," he said, glaring murderously at the boy. "And _she_ is my girlfriend, who happens to be missing. Now I suggest you _back off_."

Emmett and Ron glowered at each other, neither willing to back down. The other girl was frozen in shock. Elizabeth tried to step in between Emmett and Ron, but his hand was clamped down her arm.

Emmett's eyes traveled down to his hand, which was clutching Elizabeth's arm tightly. She would be bruised…

"Unhand her," he said slowly, dangerously.

"No," Ron said.

"Ron," Elizabeth said quietly. "Please. I'll be okay. He won't hurt me."

Ron turned his gaze to her, took a large breath, and slowly let go of her arm.

"Emmett," Elizabeth said just as quietly, tears in her eyes.

Emmett held out his arms and Elizabeth gladly ran into them. Emmett crushed her to his chest, never wanting to let go. "Emmett," Elizabeth said after a moment, stepping just enough out of his embrace that she could breathe. She made sure that she was still where Emmett could keep a hold on her. He obviously needed it. "This is _Ron_ and _Hermione_," she emphasized their names so that Emmett would remember. "You remember, I told you about them."

"Ah," Emmett nodded, tucking Elizabeth safely in his side. "You're the best friends."

Ron and Hermione nodded. Ron had a tight hold on his wand, as if ready to attack if Emmett made any sudden movement.

Emmett turned to Elizabeth. "You did tell me what was happening," he said softly.

Elizabeth blinked back her tears, "I knew that you would never let me out of your line of sight if I did tell you. Just like you did with James."

"James?" asked Hermione. "Your dad?"

"No," Elizabeth shook her head. "He was someone who wanted to kill me to get back at the Cullens—Emmett's family."

"What?" Ron said sharply.

Elizabeth only shook her head.

"You told my family what was happening, but you didn't tell me. You told them that you might have to leave and you told them not to tell me."

Elizabeth shook her head, "No, that was their call. I never told them not to tell you. I only told them to keep you from coming after me. It was their choice whether to tell you why I was gone or not."

"But why would you want me to come after you?" Emmett cried.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and said shakily, "Please, Emmett. I'll explain everything as soon as I can, but right now, we need to get out of here."

"We are not taking him with us," Ron said.

Emmett growled.

"Yes, we are," Elizabeth said. "Please, Ron. I promise you personally that he won't do anything. He's saved my life before. He'll give his for me. _Please_."

Ron stared back and forth between Elizabeth and Emmett and finally sighed. "Fine," he said grumpily. "But if he slips up even the slightest, he's gone."

Elizabeth nodded.

Emmett pulled Elizabeth closer.

"Where will we go?" Hermione finally spoke up in a small voice.

"Sirius' old house," Elizabeth said.

"Oh bloody hell!" Ron said. "Not there!"

"It's our only option," Elizabeth said. "Come on, let's go."

* * *

><p><strong>And here's chapter four! I hope you all enjoyed.<strong>

**I was going to update Jacob's Angel tonight, but I could help it. I had to update this one. :)**

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	5. A Place to Hide

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**Here's chapter five! **

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* * *

><p><span>Chapter five – A Place to Hide<span>

"Take my hand, Emmett," Elizabeth said, extending her hand to him.

He took it without questions.

"You know where?" she asked Ron and Hermione.

They both nodded.

"Alright. This is going to feel weird, Emmett," Elizabeth said, looking up at her boyfriend.

Emmett nodded, tightening his grip on her hand.

Then, on Elizabeth's count of three, she, Ron, and Hermione turned on the spot and vanished into the compressing darkness once more with Emmett in tow.

Seconds later, Elizabeth's lungs expanded gratefully and she opened her eyes: They were now standing in the middle of a familiar small and shabby square. Emmett had just managed to stay on his feet with the help of Elizabeth. Tall, dilapidated houses looked down on them from every side. Number twelve was visible tot hem, for they had been told of its existence by Dumbledore, its Secret-Keeper.

"Welcome to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," said Elizabeth grimly.

They rushed toward it, checking every few yards that they were not being followed or observed. They raced up the stone steps, and Elizabeth tapped the front door once with her wand. They heard a series of metallic clicks and the clatter of a chain, then the door swung open with a creak and they hurried over the threshold.

As Elizabeth closed the door behind them, the old fashioned gas lamps sprang into life, casting flickering light along the length of the hallway. It looked just as Elizabeth remembered it: eerie, cobwebbed, the outlines of the house-elf heads on the wall throwing odd shadows up the staircase. Long dark curtains concealed the portrait of Sirius's mother. The only thing that was out of place was the troll's leg umbrella stand, which was lying on its side as if Tonks had just knocked it over again.

"I think somebody's been here," Hermione whispered, pointing toward it.

"That could've happened as the Order left," Ron murmured back.

"So where are these jinxes they put up against Snape?" Elizabeth asked.

"Maybe they're only activated if he shows up?" suggested Ron.

Yet they remained close together on the doormat, backs against the door, scared to move farther into the house.

"Well, we can't stay here forever," said Elizabeth, and she took a step forward.

"_Severus Snape?"_

Mad-Eye Moody's voice whispered out of the darkness, making all four of them jump back in fright. "We're not Snape!" croaked Elizabeth, before something whooshed over her like cold air and her tongue curled backward on itself, making it impossible to speak. Before she had time to feel inside her mouth, however, her tongue had unraveled again.

The other three seemed to have experienced the same unpleasant sensation. Ron was making retching noises; Hermione stammered, "That m-must have b-been the T-Tongue-Tying Curse Mad-Eye set up for Snape!"

Gingerly, Elizabeth took another step forward. Something shifted in the shadows at the end of the hall, and before any of them could say another word, a figure had risen up and out of the carpet, tall, dust-colored and terrible: Hermione screamed and so did Mrs. Black, her curtains flying open; the gray figure was gliding toward them, faster and faster, its waist-length hair and beard streaming behind it, its face sunken, fleshless, with empty eye sockets: horribly familiar, dreadfully altered, it raised a wasted arm, pointing at Elizabeth.

Emmett gave a strangled yell and pulled Elizabeth protectively to his chest.

"No!" Elizabeth shouted, and though she had raised her wand, no spell occurred to her. "No! It wasn't us! We didn't kill you—"

On the word kill, the figure exploded in a great cloud of dust: Coughing, her eyes watering, Elizabeth looked around to see Hermione crouched on the floor by the door with her arms over head, and Ron, who was shaking from head to foot, patting her clumsily on the shoulder and saying, "It's all r-right… It's g-gone…"

"Are you alright?" Emmett said to Elizabeth, turning her so that she was facing him. He put his hands on her shoulders, checking her for injuries.

"I'm fine, Emmett," she assured him softly with a shaking voice.

Dusk swirled around Elizabeth like mist, catching the blue gaslight, as Mrs. Black continued to scream.

"_Mudbloods, filth, stains of dishonor, taint of shame on the house of my fathers—"_

"SHUT UP!" Elizabeth bellowed, whirling around, and directing her wand at her. With a bang and a burst of red sparks, the curtains swung shut again, silencing her.

"That… that was…" Hermione whimpered as Ron helped her to her feet.

"Yeah," said Elizabeth, "But it wasn't really him, was it? Just something to scare Snape."

"Who?" Emmett asked. "Who was that? Who's Snape?"

"I'll explain everything as soon as we make sure that we're safe here," Elizabeth assured him, putting her left arm around his waist so that she could keep her wand at the ready.

Nerves still tingling, she led the other two up the hall, half expecting some new terror to reveal itself, but nothing moved except for a mouse skittering along the skirting board.

"Before we go any farther, I think we'd better check," whispered Hermione, and she raised her wand and said, _"Homenum revelio."_

Nothing happened.

"Well, you've just had a big shock," said Ron kindly. "What was that supposed to do?"

"It did what I meant it to do!" said Hermione rather crossly.

"That was a spell to reveal human presence," said Elizabeth before Hermione could start ranting. "There's nobody here expect us."

"And old Dusty," said Ron, glancing at the patch of carpet from which the corpse-figure had risen.

"Let's go up," said Hermione with a frightened look at the same spot, and she led the way up the creaking stairs to the drawing room on the first floor.

Emmett followed them uncertainly. Hermione waved her wand to ignite the old gas lamps, then, shivering slightly in the drafty room, she perched on the sofa, her arms wrapped tightly around her. Ron crossed to the window and moved the heavy velvet curtain aside an inch.

"Can't see anyone out there," he reported. "No one can get in the house but—what's up, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth had given a cry of pain: her scar had burned as something flashed across her mind like a bright light on water, she saw a large shadow and felt a fury that was not her own pound through her body, violent and brief as an electric shock. Her scar had not hurt since she'd moved to Forks. Since she'd moved away from the wizard world all together.

"Elizabeth!" Emmett yelped, wrapping her tightly in his arms. "What happened?"

"What did you see?" Ron asked, advancing on her. "Did you see him at my place?"

"No, I just felt anger—he's really angry—"

"But that could be at the Burrow," said Ron loudly. "What else? Didn't you see anything? Was he cursing someone?"

"No, I just felt anger—I couldn't tell—"

Elizabeth felt badgered, confused, and Hermione did not help as she said in a frightened voice, "Your scar, again? But what's going on? I thought that connecting had closed!"

"It did, for a while," muttered Elizabeth. Her scar was still painful, which made it hard to concentrate. "I—I think it's started opening again whenever he loses control, that's how it used to—"

"But then you've got to close your mind!" said Hermione, shrilly. "Elizabeth, Dumbledore didn't want you to use that connection, he wanted you to shut it down, that's why you were supposed to use Occlumency! Otherwise, Voldemort can plant false images in your mind, remember—"

"Yeah, I do remember, thanks," said Elizabeth through gritted teeth. "I don't need you to remind me, Hermione." She wished that she had not told them what she had seen and felt; it made Voldemort more threatening, as though he were pressing against the window of the room, and still the pain in her scar was building and she fought it: It was like resisting the urge to be sick.

"What's happening?" Emmett asked. "Why did you just—"

"I'll explain everything as soon as I can," Elizabeth promised again, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "I promise."

She turned her back on Ron and Hermione and Emmett, pretending to examine the old tapestry of the Black family tree on the wall. Then Hermione shrieked: Elizabeth drew her wand against and spun around to see a silver Patronus soar through the drawing room window and land upon the floor in front of them, where it solidified into the weasel that spoke with the voice of Ron's father.

"_Family safe, do not reply, we are being watched."_

Elizabeth and Hermione let out sighs of relief as the Patronus dissolved into nothingness. Ron let out a noise between a whimper and a groan and dropped onto the sofa: Hermione joined him, gripping his arm.

"They're all right, they're all right!" she whispered, and Ron half laughed and hugged her.

"Elizabeth," he said over Hermione's shoulder. "I—"

"It's not a problem," said Elizabeth, sickened by the pain in her head. "It's your family, 'course you're worried. I'd feel the same way." She thought of Remus and Sirius. "I _do_ feel the same way."

The pain in her scar was reaching a peak. Faintly, she heard Hermione say, "I don't want to be on my own. Could we use the sleeping bags I've brought and camp in here tonight?"

She heard Ron agree. She could not fight the pain much longer.

"Bathroom," she muttered, and she left the room as fast as she could without running.

She barely made it: Not even bothering to bolt the bathroom door. With trembling hands, she grasped her pounding head and fell to the floor, then in an explosion of agony, she felt the rage that did not belong to her come over her. She saw a long room lit only by firelight, and one of the death Eaters that had attacked them in the coffee shop on the floor, screaming and writhing, and a slighter figure standing over him, wand outstretched, while Elizabeth spoke in a high, cold merciless voice.

"More, Rowle, or shall we end it and feed you to Nagini? Lord Voldemort is not sure that he will forgive this time… You called me back for this, to tell me that Elizabeth Potter has escaped again? Draco, give Rowle another taste of our displeasure… Do it, or feel my wrath yourself!"

A log fell in the fire: Flames reared, their light darting across a terrified, pointed white face—with a sense of emerging from deep water, Elizabeth drew heaving breaths and opened her eyes.

She was spread-eagled on the cold black marble floor, her nose inches from one of the silver serpent tail that supported the large bathtub. She sat up. Malfoy's gaunt, petrified face seemed branded on the inside of her eyes. Elizabeth felt sickened by what she had seen, by the use to which Draco was now being put by Voldemort.

Before she could stop herself, she leaned over the toilet and retched. She faintly heard the door quietly open and close. Emmett kneeled beside her, rubbing her back and holding back the curls that had fallen out of her pony tail out of her face.

When she was finished, she collapsed backward into Emmett's arms. He held her trembling figure as she slowly calmed down from her vision.

"You've got to tell me what's going on, 'Lizabeth," he murmured into her ear. "Please."

Before she could answer though, there was a sharp rag on the door. Elizabeth and Emmett jumped as Hermione's voice rang out.

"Elizabeth, do you want your toothbrush? I've got it here."

"Yeah, great, thanks," she said, fighting to keep her voice casual as she stood to let her in.

Hermione stepped in and handed her, her toothbrush. "Are you alright?" she asked when she saw Elizabeth sweaty and ashen face.

Elizabeth shook her head and muttered, "Vision. I'll tell you tomorrow."

Hermione, thankfully, didn't press the subject, but quietly stepped out.

"I'll tell you everything tomorrow, Emmett," Elizabeth whispered. "But, please, I can't right now. I need to sleep."

Emmett nodded and wrapped his arms around her. "Tomorrow," he agreed.

* * *

><p><strong>And there's chapter five! I hope you all enjoyed.<strong>

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	6. Letters, Photographs, and Explanations

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**Here's chapter six!**

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* * *

><p><span>Chapter six – Letters, Photographs, and Explanations<span>

Elizabeth woke early next morning, wrapped in a warm blanket on the sofa. A chink of sky was visible between the heavy curtains: It was the cool, clear blue of watered ink, somewhere between night and dawn. Everything was quiet except for Ron and Hermione's slow, deep breathing. Elizabeth glanced over at the dark shapes they made on the floor beside her. Ron had, had a fit of gallantry and insisted that Hermione sleep on the soft beside Elizabeth, so that her silhouette was raised above his. Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron's. Elizabeth wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands.

Hermione's head was resting on Elizabeth's lap. She had lain down like that upon Elizabeth's request. Elizabeth had fallen asleep against Emmett's chest.

Where was Emmett?

That's when she saw the note beside her.

_Gone to explore the house. Be back soon. Love you._

_-E_

Elizabeth sighed and looked up at the shadowy ceiling, the cobwebbed chandelier. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she had been greeting guests to Bill and Fleur's wedding. It seemed a lifetime away. What was going to happen now? She settled back into the sofa, her neck stiff from sleeping upright and thought of the Horcruxes. How on earth was she supposed to find everyday objects that supposedly contained part of Voldemort's soul?

Elizabeth couldn't stand lying there with nothing but bitter thoughts for company. Desperate for something to do, for distraction, she gently lifted up Hermione's head, slipped out from under her, put a pillow where she had been and laid Hermione's head back down. Hermione shifted but didn't wake. She picked up her wand and silently crept out of the room. On the landing she whispered, "_Lumos_," and started to climb the stairs by wandlight.

On the third landing was the bedroom in which she and Hermione and Ginny had slept last time they had been here; she glanced into it. The wardrobe doors stood open and the bedclothes had been ripped back. Elizabeth remembered the overturned troll leg downstairs. Somebody had searched the house since the Order had left? Snape, possibly?

Elizabeth's gaze wandered to the portrait that sometimes contained Phineas Nigellus Black, Sirius' great-great-grandfather. But it was empty, showing nothing but a stretch of muddy backdrop. Phineas was evidently spending the night in the headmaster's study at Hogwarts.

Elizabeth continued up the stairs until she reached the topmost landing, where there were only two doors. The one facing her bore a nameplate reading SIRIUS. Elizabeth had only entered her godfather's bedroom once before, during fifth year. She had, had a nightmare and was seeking comfort, knowing that Hermione wouldn't have been any help. She pushed open the door, holding her wand high to cast light as widely as possible. The room was spacious and must once have been handsome. There was a large bed with a carved wooden headboard, a tall window obscured by long velvet curtains, and a chandelier thickly coated in dust with candle stubs still resting in its sockets, solid wax handing in frostlike drips. A fine film of dust covered the pictures on the walls and the bed's headboard; a spider's web stretched between the chandelier and the top of the large wooden wardrobe. As Elizabeth moved deeper into the room, she heard a scurrying of disturbed mice.

Sirius must have not been back here since that attack at the Ministry. He had always hated this place because of its not-so-fond memories. She didn't blame him.

The teenage Sirius had plastered the walls with so many posters and pictures that little of the wall's silver-gray silk was visible. Elizabeth could only assume that Sirius' parents had been unable to remove the Permanent Sticking Charm that kept them on the wall, because she was sure they wouldn't have appreciated their eldest son's taste in decoration. Sirius seemed to have gone out of his way to annoy his parents. There were several large Gryffindor banners, faded scarlet and gold, just to underline his difference from all the rest of the Slytherin family. There were many pictures of Muggle motorcycles, and also (Elizabeth had to look twice) several posters of bikini-clad Muggle girls; Elizabeth could tell that they were Muggles because they remained quite stationary within their pictures, faded smiles and glazed eyes frozen on the paper. This was in contrast to the only Wizarding photograph on the walls, which was a picture of four Hogwarts students standing arm in arm, laughing at the camera.

With a leap of pleasure, Elizabeth recognized her father; his untidy black hair stuck up in the back, and he wore glasses (Elizabeth was terribly glad that she inherited her mother's eyesight). Beside him was Sirius, carelessly handsome, his slightly arrogant face so much younger and happier than Elizabeth had seen it in a long time. To Sirius' right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter, plump and watery-eyed, flushed with pleasure at being a part of Elizabeth's father's gang. On James' left was Remus, even then a little shabby-looking, but he had the same air of delighted surprise at finding himself like and include… or was it simply because Elizabeth knew how it had been, that she saw these things in the picture? She tried to take it from the wall, but it would not budge. Sirius had taken no chances in preventing his parents from redecorating his room.

Elizabeth looked around at the floor. The sky outside was growing brighter: A shaft of light revealed bits of paper, books, and small object scattered over the carpet. Evidently Sirius' bedroom had been searched too, although its contents seemed to have been judged mostly, if not entirely, worthless. A few of the books had been shaken so roughly that they were joined with their covers and their papers scattered over the floor.

Elizabeth bent down, picked up a few of the pieces of paper, and examined them. She recognized one as part of a n old edition of _A History of Magic_, by Bathilda Bagshot, and another belonged to a motorcycle maintenance manual. The third was handwritten and crumpled. She smoothed it out.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_Thank you, thank you, for Elizabeth's birthday present! It was her favorite by far. One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick. She looked so pleased with herself. I'm enclosing a picture so you can see. You know it only rises about two feet off the ground, but she nearly killed the cat and she smashed a horrible vase Petunia sent me for Christmas (no complaints there). Of course, James thought it was so funny, says she's going to be a great Quidditch player, but we've had to pack away all the ornaments and make sure we don't take our eyes off her when she gets going._

_We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who has always been sweet to us and who dotes on Elizabeth. We were so sorry you couldn't come, but the Order's got to come first, and Elizabeth's not old enough to know it's her birthday anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell—also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend, I thought he seemed down, but that was probably the news about the McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard. _

_Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore. I'm not sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much to believe, actually, because it seems incredible that Dumbledore_

Elizabeth seemed to have gone numb. She stood quite still, holding the miraculous paper in her nerveless fingers while joy and grief raged through her. Walking shakily to the bed, she sat down.

She read the letter again, but could not take in any more meaning than she had done the first time, and was reduced to staring at the handwriting itself. She had made her g's the same was Elizabeth did: She searched through the letter for every one of them,. The letter was proof that Lily Potter had lived. That she had actually been there at a time. That Elizabeth had actually known her mother (and her father) once upon a time.

Impatiently brushing away the wetness in her eyes, she reread the letter, this time concentrating on the meaning. It was like listening to a half-remembered voice.

They had, had a cat… perhaps it had perished, like her parents, at Godric's Hollow… or else fled when there was nobody left to feed it… Sirius had bought her, her first broomstick… Her parents had known Bathilda Bagshot; had Dumbledore introduced them? _Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak_… There was something funny there…

Elizabeth paused, pondering her mother's words. Why had Dumbledore taken James' Invisibility Cloak? Elizabeth distinctly remembered her headmaster telling her years before, "I don't need a cloak to become invisible." Perhaps some less gifted Order member had needed to use it, and Dumbledore had acted a carrier? Elizabeth passed on…

_Wormy was here_… Pettigrew, the traitor, had seemed "down," had he? Was he aware that he was seeing James and Lily alive for the last time?

And finally, Bathilda again, who told incredible stories about Dumbledore. _It seems incredible that Dumbledore—_

That Dumbledore what? But there were any number of things that would seem incredible about Dumbledore; that he had once received bottom marks in a Transfiguration test, for instance, or had taken up goat-charming like Aberforth…

Elizabeth got to her feet and scanned the floor: Perhaps the rest of the letter was here somewhere. She pulled open drawers, shook out books, stood on a chair to run her hand over the top of the wardrobe, and crawled under the bed and armchair.

At last, lying facedown on the floor, she spotted what looked like a torn piece of paper under the chest of drawers. When she pulled it out, it proved to be most of the photograph Lily had describe in her letter. A black-haired baby girl was zooming in and out of the picture on a tiny broom, roaring with laughter, and a pair or legs that must have belonged to James was chasing after him. Elizabeth tucked the photograph into her pocket with Lily's letter and continued to look for the second sheet.

After another quarter of an hour without finding it, however, she decided that it was not here and sat back down on the bed.

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth!" Emmett said, blurring into the room. He exhaled in relief when he saw her, "You can't do that to me right now, love," he said, sitting beside her. "What're you doing up here?"

"Having a look around," Elizabeth shrugged. "I found this letter sent to Sirius by my mum after my first birthday." She took the letter out of her pocket and handed it to him.

Emmett read it through quickly and when he was finished, looked back up at her.

"Elizabeth…"

"There's this too."

She took out the photograph and showed it to him. He smiled down at the baby and said, "You were a cute baby." And then he frowned, "Do all wizard pictures move?"

Elizabeth smiled, "Yeah."

Emmett looked around the room. "Hey," he said, pointing to the picture of the Marauders. "I recognize Sirius and Remus, but who're the other two?"

Elizabeth's smile turned a little sad. She pointed to James, "This is James Potter, my father. And this," she pointed to Wormtail, "is Peter Pettigrew. He's the one that sold my parents out to Voldemort and got them killed. He betrayed them because he was scared, even though he knew that they would've gotten themselves killed for him."

Her tone had become bitter.

Emmett wrapped an arm around her and pulled her firmly into his side. "You think you're up to explain everything that's happening?" he asked her softly.

Elizabeth nodded and pulled away from him. She sat cross-legged against the headboard and Emmett sat in front of her. Elizabeth took a deep breath and said, "I should start from the beginning, shouldn't I? I guess this whole thing started on October 1st, 1981…"

* * *

><p>Ron yawned widely as he sat up. His back and neck ached from sleeping on the cold floor. Hermione was sleeping peacefully on the couch with her head on a pillow. Neither Elizabeth nor Emmett were still in the room. Ron rolled his eyes. He didn't trust that Emmett character; it would take a lot to trust him with anything, much less his best friend's heart.<p>

Ron didn't exactly know why he was so protective of Elizabeth. He'd always felt the need to protect her—all of his brothers (minus Percy, of course) had. Maybe it was the fact that she had always been so small and skinny. Maybe it was the fact that she was in constant danger. Or maybe it was the fact that she had been hurt more than once by a guy who only 'liked' her because of her title. Ron didn't know his reasons; he only knew that if this Emmett guy was going to date Elizabeth, he was going to treat her right.

Hermione shifted slightly and opened her eyes. "Morning, Ron," she said as she sat up. She looked around, "Where's Elizabeth and Emmett."

"Who knows?" Ron said. "We should probably go looking for them."

Hermione nodded her agreement and stood. They checked the kitchen, the spare bedrooms, the bathroom, even, but could not find them. "Where are they?" Ron groaned.

"Did we check Sirius' room?" Hermione asked.

"Why would they be in there?" Ron said.

"Elizabeth probably took Emmett there so she could explain everything to him there."

Ron sighed and led the way up the stairs to the top landing. He opened the door to Sirius room just a crack and immediately motioned for Hermione to be quiet and come look. Hermione peeked in the room. Elizabeth was sitting against the headboard of Sirius' bed and Emmett was sitting in front of her. She was obviously explaining everything about the war to him.

"Why did you want me to come?" Emmett said quietly when she was finished, reaching over and gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "It's obvious that you need all the help you can get. I can help you."

"Because, Emmett," Elizabeth said quietly, closing her eyes. "I don't want you to be hurt or die. One hit from the Avada Kadevra curse would kill even you. It's bad enough my two best friends are putting their lives on the line to help me, that they're in this danger. I don't need my boyfriend to be in this danger too."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other with sad gazes.

Emmett reached over and took Elizabeth's face in hands, giving her a soft kiss on the lips, "I will be with you until the end, 'Lizabeth. I don't care what the risks are. I'm here and I'm not leaving."

* * *

><p><strong>And here's chapter six! I hope you all enjoyed!<strong>

**Its a good thing I read this before I posted. Do you know how many times I put Cassie instead of Elizabeth? UGH!**

**Review!**

**-The Girl with the Large Glasses**


	7. Kreacher's Tale

**I OWN NOTHING!**

**Thanks to those who reviewed! **

_Not So Sirius_ - :)

_TheBlackSeaReaper_ - :) Keep reviewing!

_Elfin69_ - Yes, but you've got to remember, Ron doesn't know what Emmett is... _yet_... :) Keep reviewing!

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**Here's chapter seven!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter seven – Kreacher's Tale<span>

"Elizabeth? Emmett?" Hermione tentatively stepped into the room before Ron could stop her.

Emmett looked at them in mild annoyance.

Elizabeth smiled at them weakly, "Good morning."

Hermione came over and sat beside Elizabeth on the bed. Ron leaned against the wall and stared at them. Hermione looked around, "Did you make this mess?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "Someone had searched before me. Although, I suppose I did make it worse… I found this letter—" she handed it to Hermione "—and was looking for the other half of it."

Ron walked over and read the letter too. When they reached the bottom of the page, they both looked up. Before they could say anything, Elizabeth handed over the picture, "There was this too." Ron and Hermione smiled down at the baby in the picture.

"What do you think whoever searched this place was after?" Ron asked, looking around.

"Information on the Order, if it was Snape."

"But you'd think he'd already have all he needed. I mean, he was _in_ the Order, wasn't he?" Hermione said.

"Well, then," said Elizabeth. "What about information on Dumbledore? The second page of this letter, for instance. You know this Bathilda my mum mentions, you know who she is?"

"Who?"

"Bathilda Bagshot, the author of—"

"_A History of Magic,"_ said Hermione, looking interested. "So your parents knew her? She was an incredible magical historian."

"And she's still alive," said Elizabeth. "She lives in Godric's Hollow, Ron's Auntie Muriel was talking about her at the wedding. She knew Dumbledore's family too. Be pretty interesting to talk to, wouldn't she?"

There was a little too much understanding in the smile Hermione gave her for Elizabeth's liking.

"I understand why you'd love to talk to her about your mum and dad, and Dumbledore too," said Hermione. "But that wouldn't really help us in our search for the Horcruxes, would it?"

"Speaking of Horcruxes," said Ron. "Anything on the locket?"

Elizabeth sighed and pulled Salazar Slytherin's locket out of the bag she'd gotten from Hagrid on her birthday, "No. It won't open. And even if it did, I'm afraid of what might be in it."

When the Minister had come to deliver Dumbledore's will, there had been a letter that was addressed to Elizabeth that he could not open. The letter had not been able to be opened until the Minister was gone and Elizabeth was alone. It had been the letter that explained to Elizabeth what Horcruxes were.

She absently picked at the locket and, to her immense surprise, it popped open. They all froze, waiting in baited breath. When nothing happen, they all exhaled. Elizabeth opened it the rest of the way, and a small piece of paper fell onto the bed beside her. She picked it up and read aloud:

"_To the Dark Lord:_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intent to destroy it as soon as I can._

_I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B."_

Elizabeth looked up in disbelief, her face dark and stony. "So," she said slowly. "Dumbledore weakened himself and died for nothing? This wasn't even the real fucking Horcrux! And who's R.A.B.?"

Emmett scooted closer and put an arm around her. Ron and Hermione looked just as upset.

"Shall… shall we go down to the kitchen?" Hermione suggested after a little pause. "Find something for breakfast?"

Elizabeth and Ron agreed. "I…" Emmett hesitated. "Yeah, sure."

Elizabeth gave him a sympathetic look and they followed Hermione out onto the landing and past the second door that led off it. There were deep scratch marks in the paintwork below a small sign that she had not noticed in the dark. She paused at the top of the stairs to read it. It was a pompous little sign, neatly lettered by hand, the sort of thing that Percy Weasley might have stuck on his bedroom door:

_Do Not Enter_

_Without the Express Permission of_

_Regulus Archurus Black_

R.A.B…

The others were already a flight of stairs below her.

"Hermione, Ron, Emmett," she said, and she was surprised that her voice was so calm. "Come back up here."

"What's the matter?"

"R.A.B. I think I've found him."

There was a gasp and then Hermione, Ron, and Emmett ran back up the stairs (Emmett at human speed of course).

"In your mum's letter?" said Hermione. "But I didn't see—"

Elizabeth shook her head, pointing at Regulus' sign. They read it, and then Hermione clutch Elizabeth's arm so tightly that she winced.

"Sirius' brother?" she whispered.

"Sirius has a brother?" said Emmett.

"Sirius doesn't talk about him much," Elizabeth explained. "He was a Death Eater. Sirius told me about him, he joined up when he was really young and then got cold feet and tried to leave—so they killed him. It hurts Sirius, knowing that his brother went bad and then decided to come back and was killed for it."

"That fits!" said Hermione. "If he was a Death Eater he had access to Voldemort, and if he became disenchanted, then he would have wanted to bring Voldemort down!"

"You don't reckon—?" said Ron.

"Let's find out," said Elizabeth. She pushed the door: It was locked. She pointed her wand at the handle and said, "_Alohomora_." There was a click, and the door swung open.

They moved over the threshold together, gazing around. Regulus' bedroom was slightly smaller than Sirius', thought it had the same sense of former grandeur. Whereas Sirius had sought to advertise his difference from the rest of the family, Regulus had striven to emphasize the opposite. The Slytherin colors were everywhere, draping the bed, the walls, and the windows. The Black family crest was painted over the bed, along with its motto, TOUJOURS PUR. Beneath this was a collection of yellow newspaper cuttings, all stuck together to make a ragged collage. Hermione crossed the room to examine them.

"They're all about Voldemort," she said. "Regulus seems to have been a fan for a few years before he joined the Death Eaters…"

a little puff of dust rose from the bedcovers as she sat down to read the clippings. Elizabeth, meanwhile, had noticed another photograph; a Hogwarts Quidditch team was smiling and waving out of the frame. She moved closer and saw the snakes emblazoned on their chests; Slytherins. Regulus was instantly recognizable as the boy sitting in the middle of the front row: He had the same dark hair and slightly haughty look of his brother, thought he was small, slighter, and rather less handsome than Sirius was.

"He played Seeker," she said.

"What?" said Hermione vaguely; she was still immersed in Vodemort's press clippings.

"He's sitting the middle of the front row, that's where the Seeker… Never mind," she said, realizing that nobody was listening: Ron was on his hands and knees, searching under the wardrobe. Emmett was trailing his fingers across the markings on the headboard. Elizabeth looked around the room for likely hiding places and approached the desk. Yet again, somebody had searched before them. The drawers' contents had been turned over recently, the dust disturbed, but there was nothing of value there: old quills, out-of-date textbooks that bore evidence of being roughly handled, a recently smashed ink bottle, its sticky residue covering the contents of the drawer.

"There's an easier way," said Hermione, as Elizabeth wiped her inky fingers on her jeans. She raised her wand and said, _"Accio Locket!"_

Nothing happened. Ron, who had been searching the folds of the faded curtains, looked disappointed.

"Is that it, then? It's not here?"

"It could still be here," said Elizabeth thoughtfully. "But under counter-enchantments. Charms to prevent it being summoned magically, you know."

"How are we supposed to find it then," asked Ron.

"We search manually," said Elizabeth.

"That's a good idea," Ron said, rolling his eyes, and resuming his examination of the curtains.

The combed every inch of the room for more than an hour, but finally decided that the locket wasn't there.

The sun had risen now; its light dazzled them even through the grimy landing windows.

"It could be somewhere else in the house, though," said Hermione in a rallying tone as they walked back downstairs. Emmett and Ron had become discouraged, but Elizabeth and Hermione had become determined.

"Yeah," said Elizabeth. "Whether he'd managed to destroy it or not, he'd want to keep it hidden from Voldemort, wouldn't he? remember all those awful things we had to get rid of when we were here last time. That clock that shot bolts at everyone and those old robes that tried to strangle Ron; Regulus might have put them there to protect the locket's hiding place. Even thought we didn't realize it at… at…"

Elizabeth felt as though a brick had slid down through her chest into her stomach. She remembered: She had handled the things as they passed it around, each trying in turn to pry it open. It had been tossed into a sack of rubbish, along with the snuffbox of Wartcap powder and the music box that had made everyone sleepy…

Emmett, Ron, and Hermione looked at her.

"… at the time," she finished at a whisper.

"Something wrong?" asked Ron.

"There was a locket."

"What?" said Ron and Hermione together.

"In the cabinet in the drawing room. Nobody could open. And we… we…"

Ron and Hermione both looked as though they had been slapped in the face.

"Kreacher nicked loads of things back from us," Elizabeth said. "He had a whole stash of stuff in his cupboard in the kitchen."

"Who's Kreacher?" asked Emmett.

"The Black family house elf," Elizabeth explained. "I did explain to you what house elves are, didn't I?"

Emmett nodded.

"C'mon," said Elizabeth.

She ran down the stairs taking two steps at a time, the other three thundering along after her. They made so much noise that they woke the portrait of Sirius' mother as they passed through the hall.

"_Filth! Mudbloods! Scum!"_ she screamed after them as they dashed down into the basement kitchen and slammed the door behind them.

Elizabeth ran the length of the room, skidded to a halt at the door of Kreacher's cupboard, and wrenched it open. There was the nest of dirty old blanket sin which the house-elf had once slept, but they were no longer glittering with the trinkets Kreacher had salvaged. The only thing there was an old copy of _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy_. Refusing to believe her eyes, Elizabeth snatched up the blankets and shook them. A dead mouse fell out and rolled dismally across the floor. Ron groaned as he threw himself into a kitchen chair; Hermione closed her eyes.

"It's not over yet," said Elizabeth. She raised her voice and called, "_Kreacher!_"

Hermione stared at her, "Elizabeth, Kreacher is Sirius'. Not yours."

Elizabeth grinned at her, "When Sirius signed the papers, that made me heir to the Black estate, making me partial owner of Kreacher."

Hermione smiled.

There was a loud crack and the house-elf appeared out of nowhere in front of the cold and empty fireplace: tiny, half human-sized, his pale skin hanging off him in folds, white hair sprouting copiously from his batlike ears. He was still wearing the filthy rag in which they had first met him, and the contemptuous look he bent upon Elizabeth showed that his attitude toward Elizabeth had altered no more than his outfit.

Emmett took a step forward and pulled Elizabeth into his side, staring at Kreacher cautiously.

"Mistress," croaked Kreacher in his bullfrog's voice, and he bowed low, muttering to his knees, "back in my Mistress's old house with the blood-traitor Weasley and the Mudblood—"

"I forbid you to call anyone 'blood traitor' or 'Mudblood,'" growled Elizabeth.

"I've got a question for you," she said, her heart beating rather fast as she looked down at the elf, "and I order you to answer it truthfully. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," said Kreacher, bowing low again: Elizabeth saw his lips moving soundlessly, undoubtedly framing the insults he was now forbidden to utter.

"Two years ago," said Elizabeth, "there was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?"

There was a moment's silence, during which Kreacher straightened up to look Elizabeth full in the face. Then he said, "Yes."

"Where is it now?" asked Elizabeth as Ron and Hermione looked gleeful.

Kreacher closed his eyes as though he could not bear to see their reactions to his next word.

"Gone."

"Gone?" echoed Elizabeth, all of the joy she'd previously felt leaving her. "What do you mean, it's gone?"

The elf shivered. He swayed.

"Kreacher," said Elizabeth fiercely. "I order you—"

"Mundungus Fletcher," croaked the elf, his eyes still tight shut. "Mundungus Fletcher stole it all; miss Bella's and Miss Cissy's pictures, my Mistress's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and—and—"

Kreacher was gulping for air: His hollow chest was rising and falling rapidly, then his eyes flew open he let out a bloodcurdling scream—

"—_and the locket, master Regulus' locket, Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!"_

"Kreacher, no!" Elizabeth shouted, lunging forward at the same time as the house elf lunged for the poker standing grate. "Stay still!" she bellowed.

She felt the elf freeze and released him. Kreacher lay flat on the cold stone floor, tears gushing from his sagging eyes.

"Elizabeth, let him up!" Hermione whispered.

"So he can beat himself up with the poker?" snorted Elizabeth, kneeling beside the elf. "I don't think so. Right, Kreacher, I want the trust: How do you know Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket?"

"Kreacher saw him!" gasped the elf as tears poured over his snout and into his mouth full of graying teeth. "Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher's cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher's treasures. Kreacher told the sneak thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher laughed and r-ran…"

"You called the locket 'Master Regulus','" said Elizabeth. "Why? Where did it come from? What did Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, sit up and tell me everything you know about that locket, and everything Regulus had to do with it!"

The elf sat up, curled into a ball, placed his wet face between his knees, and began to rock backward and forward. When he spoke, his voice was muffled but quite distinct in the silent, echoing kitchen.

"Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper pride; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and Muggle-borns… and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve…

"And one day, a year after he had joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always like Kreacher. And Master Regulus said… he said…"

The old elf rocked faster than ever.

"… he said that the Dark Lord required an elf."

"Voldemort needed an _elf_?" Elizabeth said.

"Oh, yes," moaned Kreacher. "And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, said Master Regulus, an honor for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do… and then to c-come home."

Kreacher rocked still faster, his breath coming in sobs.

"So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave there was a cavern, and in the caver was a great black lake… There was a boat… There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D-Dark lord made Kreacher drink it…"

The elf quaked from head to foot.

"Kreacher drank, and as he drank, he saw terrible things… Kreacher's insides burned… Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed… He made Kreacher drink all the potion… He dropped a locket into the empty basin… He filled it with more potion.

"And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island… Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake… and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface…"

"How did you get away?" Hermione whispered.

Kreacher raised his ugly head and looked at Elizabeth with his great, bloodshot eyes.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back," he said.

"But how—" Ron said.

"It's obvious, isn't it, Ron?" Elizabeth said. "He Disapparated. Elf magic isn't like wizard's magic. They can Apparate and Disapparate in and out of Hogwarts when we can't."

When Hermione spoke again, her voice was icy.

"Of course, Voldemort would have considered the ways of house-elves far beneath his notice, just like all the purebloods who treat them like animals… It would never occurred to him that they might have magic that he didn't."

"The house-elf's highest law is his Master's bidding," intoned Kreacher. "Kreacher was told to come home, so Kreacher came home…"

"Well then, you did what you were told, didn't you?" said Hermione kindly. "You didn't disobey orders at all!"

Kreacher shook his head, rocking as fast as ever.

"So what happened when you got back?" Elizabeth asked. "What did Regulus say when you told him what had happened?"

"Master Regulus was very worried, very worried," croaked Kreacher. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then… it was a little while later… Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell… and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave here Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord…"

"And he made you drink the potion?" asked Elizabeth, disgusted.

But Kreacher shook his head and wept. In that moment, Elizabeth understood. She lifted one hand to her mouth and whispered, "He didn't…"

But Kreacher continued anyway.

"M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had. And he told Kreacher to take it, and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets…"

Kreacher's sobs came in great rasps now; Elizabeth had to concentrate hard to understand him.

"And he ordered—Kreacher to leave—without him. And he told Kreacher—to go home—and never to tell my Mistress—what he had done—but to destroy—the first locket. And he drank—all the potion—and Kreacher swapped the lockets—and watched… as Master Regulus… was dragged beneath the water… and…"

Elizabeth stood and took a step back. Emmett wrapped his arms comfortingly around her and pulled her back against his chest, resting his chin atop her head.

"Oh, Kreacher!" wailed Hermione, who was crying. She dropped to her knees beside the elf and tried to hug him. At once he was on his feet, cringing away from her, quite obviously repulsed.

"The Mudblood touch Kreacher, he will not allow it, what would his Mistress say?"

"I told you not to call her' Mudblood'!" snarled Elizabeth, but the elf was already punishing himself. He fell to the ground and banged his forehead on the floor.

"Stop him—stop him!" Hermione cried. "Oh, don't you see how sick it is, the way they've got to obey?"

"Kreacher—stop, stop!" shouted Elizabeth.

The elf lay on the floor, panting and shivering, green mucus glistening around his snout, a bruise already blooming on his pallid forehead where he had struck himself. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot and swimming with tears. Elizabeth had never seen anything so pitiful.

"So you brought the locket home," she said relentlessly, for she was determined to know the full story. "And you tried to destroy it?"

"Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," moaned the elf. "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work… So many spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open… Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his Mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared, and Kreacher could nto tell her what happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave…"

Kreacher began to sob so hard that there was no more coherent words. Tears flowered down Hermione's cheeks as she watched Kreacher, but she did not dare touch him again. Even Ron, who was no fan of Kreacher's, looked troubled. Elizabeth shook her head, trying to clear it.

"Kreacher," she said after a while, "when you feel up to it, er… please sit up."

It was several minutes before Kreacher hiccupped himself into silence. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position again, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes like a small child.

"Kreacher, I am going to ask you to do something," said Elizabeth. She glanced at Hermione. The change in her tone seemed to have gained her approval. She smiled encouragingly.

"Kreacher, I want you, please, to go and find Mundungus Fletcher. We need to find out where the locket—where master Regulus' locket is. It's really important. We want to finish the work Master Regulus started, we want to—er—ensure that he didn't die in vain."

Kreacher dropped his fists and looked up at Elizabeth.

"Find Mundungus Fletcher?" he croaked.

"And bring him here, to Grimmuald Place," said Elizabeth. "Do you think you could do that for us?"

Kreacher nodded and got to his feet. Elizabeth had a sudden inspiration. She pulled out Hagrid's purse and took out the fake Horcrux, the substitute locket in which Regulus had placed the not to Voldemort.

"Kreacher, I'd like you to have this," she said, pressing the locket into the elf's hand. "This belonged to Regulus and I'm sure he'd want you to have it."

"Overkill, mate," said Ron as the elf took one look at the locket, let out a howl of shock and misery, and threw himself back onto the ground.

It took them nearly half an hour to calm down Kreacher, who was so overcome to be presented with a Black family heirloom for his very own that he was too weak at the knees to stand properly. When finally he was able to take a few steps, they all accompanied him to his cupboard, watched him tuck up the locket safely in his dirty blanket, and assured him that they would make its protection their first priority while he was away. He then made two low bows to Elizabeth and Ron, and even gave a funny little spasm in Hermione's direction that might have been an attempt at a respectful solute, before Disapparating with the usual loud _crack_.

"Wow," Elizabeth sighed, leaning back against Emmett's chest. "I never thought…"

"We seriously owe him an apology," said Hermione.

Ron snorted.

* * *

><p><strong>And here's chapter seven! I hope you all enjoyed!<strong>

**Sorry it took me so long to update, but I was working on a new story that I should have up later today. **

**Also, I have a new one shot up and I would really appreciate it if you gave it a try! Please!**

**Review!**

**-The Girl with the Large Glasses **


	8. The Locket

**I OWN NOTHING!**

**Thanks to those who reviewed!**

_Elfin69_ - You'll just have to read and find out! :)

_TheBlackSeaReaper_ - :)

_Rori Potter_ - :)

_Not So Sirius_ - :)

_XlaraC_ - Thanks for reviewing! Keep it up!

_capuzzler_ - Thanks a bunch! Keep reviewing!

**Here's chapter eight!**

**Enjoy!**

The Locket

If Kreacher could escape a lake full of Inferi, Elizabeth was confident that the capture of Mundungus would take a few hours at most, and she prowled the house with Emmett at her side all morning in a state of high anticipations. However, Kreacher did not return that morning or even that afternoon. By nightfall, Elizabeth felt discouraged and anxious, and a supper composed largely of moldy bread, upon which Hermione had tried a variety of unsuccessful Transfigurations, did nothing to help.

Elizabeth did feel sorry for Emmett though. He ate the food to keep from rising suspicion and unsuccessfully tried to keep his face neutral as he swallowed the apparently disgusting food. Ron and Hermione didn't notice this though, as most of the food was rotten and moldy, so they all had similar appearances.

Kreacher did not return the following day, or the day after that. However, two cloaked men had appeared in the square outside number twelve, and they remained there into the night, gazing in the direction of the house that they could not see.

"Death Eaters, for sure," said Ron, as he, Elizabeth, Hermione, and Emmett watched from the drawing room windows. "Recon they know we're in here?"

"I don't think so," said Hermione, though she looked frightened, "or they'd have sent Snape in after us, wouldn't they?"

"D'you reckon he's been in here and had his tongue tied by Moody's curse?" asked Ron.

"Yes," said Elizabeth, "otherwise he'd have been able to tell that lot how to get in, wouldn't he? But they're probably watching to see whether we turn up. They know that Sirius is my godfather and they know that he would tell me where it is just in case I need somewhere to go to be safe."

The presence of the Death Eaters outside increased the ominous mood inside number twelve. They had not heard a word from anyone beyond Grimmauld Place since Mr. Weasley's Patronus, and the strain was starting to tell. Restless and irritable, Ron had developed an annoying habit of playing with the Deluminator in his pocket: This particularly infuriated Hermione, who was whiling away the wait for Kreacher by studying _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and did not appreciate the way the lights kept flashing on and off.

"Will you stop it!" she cried on the third evening of Kreacher's absence, as all light was sucked from the drawing room yet again.

"Sorry, sorry!" said Ron, clicking the Deluminator and restoring the lights. "I don't know I'm doing it!"

"Well, can't you find something useful to occupy yourself?"

"What, like reading kids' stories?"

"Dumbledore left me this book, Ron—"

"—and he left me the Deluminator, maybe I'm supposed to use it!"

Unable to stand the bickering, Elizabeth took Emmett's hand and they slipped out of the room, unnoticed by the other two. They headed downstairs toward the kitchen, which she kept visiting because she was sure that was where Kreacher was most likely to reappear. halfway down the flight of stairs into the hall, however, he heard a tap on the front door, then metallic clicks and the grinding of the chain.

Every nerve in her body seemed to tauten: She pulled out her wand. Emmett tried to pull her behind him, but she stood firm, knowing that she had a better chance against a fully armed wizard or witch than he would. The door opened: She saw a glimpse of the lamplit square outside, and a cloaked figure edged into the hall and closed the door behind it. The intruder took a step forward, and Moody's voice asked, "_Severus Snape_?" Then the dust figure rose from the end of the hall and rushed him, raising its dead hand.

"It was not I who killed you, Albus," said a quiet voice.

The jinx broke: The dust-figure exploded again, and it was impossible to make out the newcomer through the dense gray cloud it left behind.

Elizabeth pointed her wand into the middle of it.

"Don't move!"

She had forgotten the portrait of Mrs. Black: At the sound of her yell, the curtains hiding her flew open and she began to scream, _"Mudbloods and filth dishonoring my house—"_

Ron and Hermione came crashing down the stairs, wands pointing, like hers, at the unknown man now standing with his arms raised in the hall below.

"Hold your fire, it's me, Remus!"

"Oh, thank goodness," said Hermione weakly, pointing her wand at Mrs. Black instead; with a bang the curtains swished shut again and silence fell. Ron too lowered his wand, but Elizabeth did not.

"Show yourself!" she called back.

Remus moved forward into the lamplight, hands still held high in a gesture of surrender.

"I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Elizabeth, which takes the form of a doe."

"Oh, all right," said Elizabeth, lowering her wand, "but I had to check, didn't I?"

"Speaking as your ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and as your godfather, I quite agree that you had to check. Ron, Hermione, you shouldn't be quite so quick to lower your defenses."

They ran down the stairs toward him. Wrapped in a thick black traveling cloak, he looked exhausted, but pleased to see them. "You little monster," he growled, rushing forward and hugging her tightly. He then caught sight of Emmett.

"Emmett?" he said, shocked, letting Elizabeth go. "How did you find us?"

"How do you think?" Emmett gave him a pointed look and then discreetly pointed to Ron and Hermione. Remus immediately understood. "And werewolf? Explains why you didn't like me."

Remus chuckled, "Yes, it does." He turned back to Elizabeth. "No sign of Severus, then?"

"No," said Elizabeth. "What's going on? Is everyone okay?"

"Yes," said Remus, "but we're all being watched. There are a couple of Death Eaters in the square outside—"

"We know—"

"I had to Apparate very precisely onto the top step outside the front door to be sure that they would not see me. They can't know you're in here or I'm sure they'd have more people out there; they're staking out everywhere that's got any connection with you, Elizabeth. Let's go downstairs, there's a lot to tell you, and I want to know what happened after you left the Burrow."

The descended into the kitchen, where Hermione pointed her wand at the grate. A fire sprang up instantly: It gave the illusion of coziness to the stark stone walls and glistened off the long wooden table. Lupin pulled a few butterbeers from beneath his traveling cloak and they sat down.

"I'd have been here three days ago but I needed to shake off the Death Eater tailing me," said Remus. "So, you came straight here after the wedding?"

"No," said Elizabeth, "Only after we ran into a couple of Death Eaters in a café on Tottenham Court Road."

Remus slopped most of his butterbeer down his front.

"_What?"_

They explained what happened, including the part where Emmett found them. When they had finished, Lupin looked aghast.

"But how did they find you so quickly? It's impossible to track anyone who Apparates, unless you grab hold of them as they disappear!"

"And it doesn't seem likely they were just strolling down Tottenham Court Road at the time, does it?" said Elizabeth.

"We wondered," said Hermione tentatively, "whether 'Lizabeth could still have the Trace on her?"

"Impossible," said Remus and Elizabeth felt instantly relieved. "Apart from anything else, they'd know for sure Elizabeth was here if she still had the Trace on her, wouldn't the? But I can't see how they could have tracked you to Tottenham Court Road, that's worrying, really worrying."

He looked disturbed, but as far as Elizabeth was concerned, that question could wait.

"Tell us what happened after we left, we haven't heard a thing since Ron's dad told us the family was safe."

"Well, Kinsley saved us," said Remus. "Thanks to his warning most of the wedding guests were able to Disapparate before they arrived."

"Were they Death Eaters or ministry people?" interjected Hermione.

"A mixture; but to all intents and purposes they're the same thing now," said Remus.

"There were about dozen of them, but they didn't know you were there, Elizabeth. Arthur heard a rumor that they tried to torture your whereabouts out of Scrimgeour before they killed him; if it's true, he didn't give you away."

Elizabeth looked at Ron and Hermione; their expressions reflected the mingled shock and gratitude she felt. She had never like Scrimgeour much, but if what Remus said, the man's final act had been to try and protect Elizabeth. She felt Emmett's arm around her shoulder tighten.

"The Death Eaters searched the Burrow from top to bottom," Remus went on. "They found the ghoul, but didn't want to get too close—and then they interrogated those of us who remained for hours. They were trying to get information on you, Liz, but of course nobody apart from the Order knew that you had been there.

"At the same time that they were smashing up the wedding, more Death Eaters were forcing their way into every Order-connected house in the country. No deaths," he added quickly, forestalling the question, "but they were rough. They burned down Dedalus Diggle's house, but as you know he wasn't there, and they used the Cruciatus Curse on the Tonks family."

Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath. Tonks was like a sister to her. Emmett tightened his arm around her shoulders again and took her hand in his, twining their fingers together.

"They're all right," Remus added, reaching over and taking her other hand. "Shaken, obviously, but otherwise okay."

"Surely people realize what's going on?" said Elizabeth.

"The coup has been smooth and virtually silent," said Remus. "The official version of Scrimgeour's murder is that he resigned; he has been replaced by Pius Thicknesse, who is under the Imperius Curse."

"Why didn't Voldemort declare himself Minister of Magic?" asked Ron.

Remus laughed.

"He doesn't need to, Ron. Effectively he is the Minister, but why should he sit behind a desk at the Ministry? His puppet, Thicknesse, is taking care of everyday business, leaving Voldemort free to extend his power beyond the Ministry.

"Naturally, many people have deduced what has happened: There has been such a dramatic change in the Ministry policy in the last few days, and many are whispering that Voldemort must be behind it. However, that is the point: They whisper. They daren't confide in each other, not knowing whom to trust; they are scared to speak out, in case their suspicions are true and their families are targeted. Yes, Voldemort is playing a very clever game. Declaring himself might have provoked open rebellion: Remaining masked has created confusion, uncertainty, and fear.

"Meanwhile, the Ministry has started moving against Muggleborns."

Remus pulled out a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and handed it to Elizabeth.

"Look at page two."

Elizabeth turned the pages.

"'_Muggle-born Register,'"_ she read aloud_. "'The Ministry of Magic is undertaking a survey of so-called "Muggle-borns," the better to understand how they came to possess magical secrets._

"'_Recent research undertaken by the Department of Mysteries reveals that magic can only be passed from person to person when Wizards reproduce. Where no proven Wizarding ancestry exists, therefore, the so-called Muggle-born is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force._

"'_The ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to ever so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission.'"_

"People won't let this happen," said Ron.

"It _is_ happening, Ron," said Remus. "Muggle-borns are being rounded up as we speak."

"But how are they supposed to have 'stolen' magic?" said Ron. "It's mental, if you could steal magic there wouldn't be any Squibs, would there?"

"I know," said Remus. "Nevertheless, unless you can prove that you have at least one close Wizarding relative, you are now deemed to have obtained your magical power illegally and must suffer the punishment."

Ron glanced at Hermione, then said, "What if purebloods and half-bloods swear a Muggle-born's part of their family? I'll tell everyone Hermione's my cousin—"

Hermione covered Ron's hand with hers and squeezed it.

"Thanks you, Ron, but I couldn't let you—"

"You wouldn't have a choice," said Ron fiercely, gripping her hand back. "I'll teach you my family tree so you can answer questions on it."

Hermione gave a shaky laugh.

"Ron, as we're on the run with Elizabeth Potter, the most wanted person in the country, I don't think it matters. If I was going back to school, it was would different. What's Voldemort planning for Hogwarts?" she asked Remus.

"Attendance is now compulsory for every young witch and wizard," he replied. "That was announced yesterday. It's a change, because it was never obligatory before. Of course, nearly every witch and wizard in Britain has been educated at Hogwarts, but their parents had the right to teach them at home or send them abroad if they preferred. This way, Voldemort will have the whole Wizarding population under his eye from a young age. And it's also another way of weeding out Muggle-borns, because students must be given Blood Status—meaning that they have proven to the Ministry that they are of wizard descent—before they are allowed to attend."

Elizabeth felt sick and angry: At this moment, excited eleven-year-olds would be poring over stacks of newly purchased spell-books, unaware that they would never see Hogwarts, perhaps never see their families again either. Her own mother had been Muggle-born… her best friend…

"It's…. it's…." she muttered, struggling to find words that did justice to the horror of her thoughts, but Remus said quietly,

"I know."

He hesitated.

"I'll understand if you can't confirm this, Liz, but the Order is under the impression the Dumbledore left you a mission."

"He did," relied Elizabeth, "and Ron and Hermione—and now Emmett—are in on it and they're coming with me."

"Can you confide in me what the mission is?"

Elizabeth looked into the prematurely lined face, framed in thick but graying hair, and wished she could return a different answer.

"I can't, Remus, I'm sorry. I think Dumbledore knew that he wasn't going to finish what he started, he already had his will written out, a letter that explained all of this to me. It wouldn't open for anyone but me. He specifically asked that I tell no one but Ron and Hermione. I didn't mean for Emmett to find out."

"I thought you'd say something like that," said Remus, looking disappointed. "But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to."

Elizabeth hesitated. It was a very tempting offer, though how they would be able to keep their mission secret from Remus if he were with them all the time she could not imagine. No, she was already risking her two best friends' and her boyfriend's life. She wasn't risking anyone else's.

"What about Sirius?" she said. "Tonks?"

"Tonks will be perfectly safe," he said.

There was something strange in Remus' tone; almost cold.

"Remus," Elizabeth said tentatively. "Is everything all—"

"Everything is fine, thank you," said Remus pointedly. There was an awkward and embarrassed pause, and then Remus said, with an air forcing himself to admit something unpleasant, "Tonks and I got married. I'm sorry you couldn't be there."

"Oh, how wonderful!" squealed Hermione.

"Excellent!" said Ron enthusiastically.

"Congratulations," said Emmett.

Remus gave an artificial smile that was more like a grimace, then said, "So… do you accept my offer? Will four become five? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I am your godfather, Elizabeth. I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined."

They all looked at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth however, had narrowed her eyes.

"May I speak with you in the kitchen?" she said pointedly. "Alone?"

Remus nodded and they both stood, walking back upstairs and into the kitchen. Elizabeth shut the door behind them and Silenced it.

"So you mean to tell me," she said slowly, "that you are just going to leave Tonks behind like that? She needs you."

"Elizabeth," Remus sighed, rubbing his temples. "Tonks is going to be perfectly safe. She's at her parent's house. They have plenty of protection charms up—"

"That's not what I'm talking about," Elizabeth snapped.

"Elizabeth, you don't know the position I've been put in!" Remus said. "You don't know what it's like! Just by being me, I'm putting her in danger—" He cut himself off and his face drained of color as he realized what he said.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and said slowly, "You don't think I understand? Remus, what do you think was my reason for not telling Emmett about the war? My best friend's are in constant danger because _I_ am who _I_ am! Yes, Remus, I do understand what position you're in, because I'm in it too!"

Her voice had risen to a shout at the end of her speech. Remus closed his eyes and lowered his head.

Elizabeth sighed, stepped forward, and pulled her godfather into a hug. "Don't push her away now," she murmured in his ear, "because you'll regret it _badly_ in the long run. I speak from experience."

Remus sighed and hugged her back. He cupped the back of her head and rubbed her back. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth," he muttered. "I'm just stressed."

Elizabeth smiled and pulled away, "Go back to her, before she pushes you away."

Remus smiled and kissed her forehead, "You're a good, kid. Remember that."

"Thanks," she opened the door. "I'll send something to let you know that I'm safe as soon as possible."

Remus squeezed her shoulders briefly and then called down the stairs, "I'm leaving!"

"Bye, Remus!" they heard Ron, Hermione, and Emmett call.

"Take care of yourself, you hear?" said Remus.

"I will," Elizabeth promised. Remus kissed her forehead one more time and then walked out the door.

Elizabeth walked back downstairs and straight into Emmett's arms. "What did you say?" Hermione asked.

Elizabeth only smiled sadly, "I made him see reason. It got him to go back, didn't it?"

Before anyone else could say anything, there was a deafening _crack_ that echoed from the kitchen.

They all bolted up the stairs. For the first time in three days, Elizabeth had forgotten all about Kreacher. Kreacher disentangled himself from the mass of struggling limbs on the floor and, bowing low to Elizabeth, croaked, "Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher, Mistress."

Mundungus scrambled up and pulled out his wand. Elizabeth, however, was too quick for him.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Mundungus' wand soared into the air, and Elizabeth caught it. Wild-eyed, Mundungus dived for the stairs: Ron rugby-tackles him and Mundungus hit the stone floor with a muffled crunch.

"What?" he bellowed, writhing in his attempts to free himself from Ron's grip. "Wha've I done? Setting a bleedin' 'ouse-elf on me, what are you playing at, wha've I don, lemme go, lemme go, or—"

"You're not in much of a position to make threats," said Elizabeth. She crossed the kitchen in a few strides and dropped to her knees beside Mundungus, who stopped struggling and looked terrified. Ron got up, panting, and watched as Elizabeth pointed his wand deliberately at Mundungus' nose. Mundungus stand of stale seat and tobacco smoke: His hair was matted and his robes stained.

"Kreacher apologized for the delay in bringing the thief, Mistress," croaked the elf. "Fletcher knows how to avoid capture, has many hidey-holes and accomplices. Nevertheless, Kreacher cornered the thief in the end."

"You've done really well, Kreacher," said Elizabeth, and the elf bowed low.

"Right, we've got a few questions for you," Elizabeth told Mundungus.

It felt wonderful to have something to do, someone of whom she could demand some small portion of truth. Elizabeth's wand was now so close to the bridge of Mundungus' nose that Mundungus had gone cross-eyes trying to keep it in view.

"When you cleaned out this house with anything valuable," Elizabeth began, but Mundungus interrupted her.

"Sirius never cared about any of the junk—"

there was the sound of pattering feet, a blaze of shining copper, an echoing clang, and a shriek of agony: Kreacher had taken a run at Mundungus and hit him over the head with a saucepan.

"Call 'im off, call 'im off, 'e should be locked up!" screamed Mundungus, cowering as Kreacher raised the heavy-bottomed pan again.

Elizabeth could see Emmett shaking with silent laughter out of the corner of her eye.

"Kreacher, no!" she shouted.

Kreacher's thin arms trembled with the weight of the pan, still held aloft.

"Perhaps, just one more, Mistress 'Lizabeth, for luck?"

Ron and Emmett laughed.

"We need him conscious, Kreacher, but if he needs persuading you can do the honors," said Elizabeth, not even bothering to hide her smirk of amusement as Mundungus cowered.

"Thanks you very much, Mistress," said Kreacher with a bow, and he retreated a short distance, his great pale eyes still fixed upon Mundungus with loathing.

"When you stripped this house of all the valuables you could find," Elizabeth began again, "you took a bunch of stuff from the kitchen cupboard. There was a locket here." Elizabeth's mouth was suddenly dry: She could sense the others' tension and excitement too. "What did you do with it?"

"That's all you want?" cried Mundungus. "You can have it." He took the shiny locket out of his coat pocket. "Bloody thing's useless."

He tossed it at Elizabeth and she caught it ease. "Thank you Mundungus," she said with a shaking voice. "You can go now."

Mundungus wasted no time in sprinting out the door.

"So this is it," Elizabeth said shakily, holding up the locket. "This is the Horcrux."

* * *

><p><strong>And here's chapter eight! I hope you all enjoyed!<strong>

**Also, I have a new story up. It's called Harry Potter and Katie Lupin: The Sorcerer's Stone. Please give it a try! It would be greatly appreciated!**

**Review!**

**-The Girl with the Large Glasses**


	9. On the Run Again

**I OWN NOTHING!**

**Thanks to those who reviewed!**

_TheBlackSeaReaper_ - :)

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_XlaraC_ - Yeah, but I couldn't exactly just make her pregnant if they'd just gotten married. Well, I suppose I could've, but I didn't really want to, I guess... Keep reviewing!\

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_Elfin69_ - Thanks for reviewing! Keep it up!

**Here's chapter nine!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>On the Run… Again<span>

As August wore on, the square of unkempt grass in the middle of Grimmauld Place shriveled in the sun until it was brittle and brown. The inhabitants of number twelve were never seen by anybody in the surrounding houses, and nor was number twelve itself. The Muggles who lived in Grimmauld Place had long since accepted the amusing mistake in the numbering that had caused number eleven to sit beside number thirteen.

And yet the square was now attracting a trickle of visitors who seemed to find the anomaly most intriguing. Barely a day passed without one or two people arriving in Grimmauld Place with no other purpose, or so it seemed, than to lean against the railings facing numbers eleven and thirteen, watching the join between the two houses. The lurkers were never the same two days running, although they all seemed to share a dislike for normal clothing. Most of the Londoners who passed them were used to eccentric dressers and took little notice, though occasionally one of them might glance back, wondering why anyone would wear such long cloaks in this heat.

The watchers seemed to be gleaning little satisfaction from their vigil. Occasionally one of them started forward excitedly, as if they had seen something interesting at last, only to fall back looking disappointed.

On the first day of September there were more people lurking in the square than ever before. Half a dozen men in long cloaks stood silent and watchful, gazing as ever at houses eleven and thirteen, but the thing for which they were waiting still appeared elusive. As evening drew in, bringing with it an unexpected gust of chilly rain for the first time in weeks, there occurred on of the most inexplicable moments when they appeared to have seen something interesting. The man with the twisted face pointed and his closest companion, a podgy, pallid man, started forward, but a moment later they had relaxed into their previous state of inactivity, smirking subtly.

Meanwhile, inside number twelve, Elizabeth had just entered the hall. She had nearly lost her balance as she Apparated onto the top step just outside the front door, and thought that the Death Eaters might have caught a glimpse of his momentarily exposed elbow. Shutting the front door carefully behind her, she pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, draped it over her arm, and hurried along the gloomy hallway toward the door that led to the basement, a stolen copy of the _Daily Prophet_ clutched in her hand.

Each of them—Elizabeth, Ron, and Hermione—all took turns sneaking out of Grimmauld to go get the _Daily Prophet_ so that they could keep up with the news in the Wizard world.

The usual low whisper of "_Severus Snape?_" greeted her, the chill wind swept her, and her tongue rolled up for a moment.

"I didn't kill you," she said, once it had unrolled, then held her breath as the dusty jinx-figure exploded. She waited until she was halfway down the stairs to the kitchen, out of earshot of Mrs. Black and clear of the dust cloud before calling, "I've got news, and you won't like it."

The kitchen was almost unrecognizable. Every surface now shone: copper pots and pans had been burnished to a rosy glow; the wooden tabletop gleamed; the goblets and plates already laid for dinner glinted in the light from a merrily blazing fire, on which a cauldron was simmering. Nothingg in the room, however, was more dramatically different than the house-elf who now came hurrying toward Elizabeth, dressed in a snowy-white towel, his ear hair as clean and fluffy as cotton wool, Regulus' locket bouncing on his thin chest.

"Shoes off, if you please, Mistress 'Lizabeth, and hands washed before dinner," croaked Kreacher, seizing the Invisibility Cloak and slouching off to hand it on a hook on the wall, beside a number of old-fashioned robes that had been freshly laundered.

"What's happened?" Ron asked apprehensively. He and Hermione had both been staring at the real locket, both trying to figure out how to destroy it, and Emmett had been watching Kreacher, but now they all watched as Elizabeth strode toward them and threw down the newspaper on the table.

A large picture of a familiar, hooked-nosed, black-haired man stared up at them all, beneath a headline that read:

**SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER**

"No!" said Ron and Hermione loudly.

Hermione was quickest; she snatched up the newspaper and began to read the accompanying story out loud.

"'_Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. _

"'_I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest Wizarding traditions and values—'_ Lie committing murder and cutting off people's ears, I suppose! Snape, headmaster! Snape in Dumbledore's study—Merlin's pants!" she shrieked, making all of them jump. She leapt from the table and hurtled from the room, shouting as she went, "I'll be back in a minute!"

"'Merlin's pants'?" repeated Ron, looking amused. "She must be upset." He pulled the newspaper toward him and perused the article about Snape.

"The other teachers won't stand for this. McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout all know the trust, they know how Dumbledore died. They won't accept Snape as headmaster. And who are these Carrows?"

"Death Eaters," said Elizabeth. "There are pictures of them inside. And," she went on bitterly, drawing up a chair beside Emmett, "I can't see that the other teachers have got any choice but to stay. If the Ministry and Voldemort are behind Snape it'll be a choice between staying and teacher, or a nice few years in Azkaban—and that's if they're lucky. I reckon they'll stay to try and protect the students."

Kreacher came bustling to the table with a large tureen in his hands, and ladled out soup into pristine bowls, whistling between his teeth as he did so.

"Thanks, Kreacher," said Elizabeth, flipping over the Prophet so as not to have to look at Snape's face. "Well, at least we know exactly where Snape is now."

She began to spoon soup into his mouth. The quality of Kreacher's cooking had improved dramatically ever since he had been given Regulus' locket: Today's French onion was as good as Elizabeth had ever tasted.

"There are still a load of Death Eaters watching the house," she told Ron as she ate, "more than usual. It's like they're hoping we'll march out carrying out school trunks and head off for the Hogwarts Express."

Ron glanced at his watch.

"I've been thinking about that all day. It left nearly six hours ago. Weird, not being on it, isn't it?"

in her mind's eye, Elizabeth seemed to see the scarlet steam engine as she and Ron had one followed it by air, shimmering between fields and hills, a rippling scarlet caterpillar. She was sure Ginny, Neville, and Luna were sitting together at this moment, perhaps wondering where she, Ron, and Hermione were, or debating how to best undermine Snape's new regime.

"They nearly saw me coming back in just now," Elizabeth said. "I landed badly on the top step, and the Cloak slipped."

"I do that every time. Oh, here she is," Ron added, craning around in his seat to watch Hermione reentering the kitchen. "And what in the name of Merlin's most baggy Y Fronts was that about?"

"I remembered this," Hermione panted.

She was carrying a large, framed picture, which she now lowered tot eh floor before seizing her small, beaded bag from the kitchen sideboard. Opening it, she proceeded to force the painting inside, and despite the fact that it was patently too large to fit inside the tiny bag, within a few seconds it had vanished, like so much else, into the bag's capacious depths.

"Phineas Nigellus," Hermione explained as she threw the bag onto the kitchen table with the usual sonorous, clanking crash.

"Sorry?" said Ron, but Elizabeth understood.

"Snape could send Phineas Nigellus to look inside this house for him," Elizabeth explained.

"But let him try now," Hermione continued. "All Phineas Nigellus will be able to see is the inside of my handbag."

"Good thinking!" said Ron. Emmett looked impressed.

"Thank you," smiled Hermione.

At that exact moment, pain shot through the scar on Elizabeth's forehead. Her hand jumped to it: She saw Hermione's eyes narrow, and she tried to pass off the movement by brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"How did you get that whole painting to fit into your handbag?" asked Emmett interestedly. Hermione smiled at his curiosity.

Elizabeth's scar was becoming more and more painful. She stood up. At once, Kreacher hurried forward.

"Mistress has not finished her soup, would Mistress prefer the savory stew, or else the treacle tart to which Mistress is so partial?"

"Thanks, Kreacher, but I'll be back in a minute—er—bathroom."

Aware that Hermione was watching her suspiciously, Elizabeth hurried up the stairs to the hall and then to the first landing, where she dashed into the bathroom and bolted the door. grunting with pain, she slumped over the black basin with it taps in the form of open-mouthed serpents and closed her eyes…

She was gliding along a twilit street. The building on either side of her had high, timbered gables; they looked like gingerbread houses.

She approached one of them, then saw the whiteness of her own long-fingered hand against the door. she knocked. She felt a mounting excitement…

The door opened: A laughing woman stood there. Her face fell as she looked into Elizabeth's white face: humor gone, terror replacing it…

"Gregorovitch?" said a high, cold voice.

She shook her head: She was trying to close the door. A white hand held it steady, prevented her from shutter her out…

"I want Gregorovitch."

"_Er wohnt hier nicht mehr!_ She cried, shaking her head. "He no live here! He no live here! I know him not!"

Abandoning the attempt to close the door, she began to back away down the hall, and Elizabeth followed, gliding toward her, and her long-fingered hand had drawn her wand.

"Where is he?"

"_Das weifs ich nicht!_ He move! I know not, I know not!"

She raised the wand. The woman screamed. Two young children came running into the hall. She tried to shield them with her arms. There was a flash of green light—

"Elizabeth! ELIZABETH!"

She opened her eyes; she had sunk to the floor. Hermione was pounding on the door again with Emmett shouting:

"Elizabeth, open up!"

She had shouted out, she knew it. She got up and unbolted the door; Hermione toppled inside at one with Emmett barreling in after her. Hermione regained her balance and looked around suspiciously. Ron was right behind her, looking unnerved as he pointed his wand into the corners of the chilly bathroom.

"Are you alright?" Emmett asked worriedly as he pulled Elizabeth into his arms.

"I'm fine," she assured him, letting him hold her. She turned to Ron and Hermione, "I've just seen Voldemort murdering a woman. By now he's probably killed her whole family. And he didn't need to. It was Cedric all over again, they were just _there_…"

"Elizabeth, you aren't supposed to let this happen anymore!" Hermione cried, her voice echoing through the bathroom. "Dumbledore wanted you to use Occlumency! He thought the connection was dangerous—Voldemort can _use_ it, Elizabeth! What good is it to watch him kill and torture, how can it help?"

"Because it means I know what he's doing," said Elizabeth.

"So you're not even going to _try_ to shut him out?"

"Hermione, I can't. You know I'm lousy at Occlumency, I never got the hang of it."

"You never really tried!" she said hotly. "I don't get it, Elizabeth—do you like having this special connection or relationship or what—whatever—"

She faltered under the look Elizabeth gave her. Emmett tightened his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of Elizabeth's head.

"Like it?" she said quietly. "Would you like it?"

"I—no—I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I didn't mean—"

"I hate it, I hate the fact that he can get inside of me, that I have to watch him when he's most dangerous. But I'm going to use it."

"Dumbledore—"

"Forget Dumbledore. This is my choice, nobody else's. I want to know why he's after Gregorovitch."

"Who?"

"He's a foreign wandmaker," said Elizabeth. "He made Krum's wand and Krum reckons he's brilliant."

"But according to you," said Ron, "Voldemort's got Ollivander locked up somewhere. If he's already got a wandmaker, what does he need another one for?"

"Maybe he agrees with Krum, maybe he thinks Gregorovitch it better… I don't know. I don't pretend to understand all things that Voldemort does."

"Well—" Hermione started.

"Shh!" Emmett hissed. "Listen."

They all fell silent to listen. There was the sound of moment downstairs. From all over, really.

"That's not Kreacher," murmured Elizabeth. She took hold of Emmett's hand.

At that moment, the door to the bathroom quietly opened and Kreacher quietly slipped inside.

"Mistress needs to leave!" the elf whispered. "Death Eaters found you! Leave now, Mistress, before the get you! Kreacher has taken down the Disapparation wards for you."

"Thank you, Kreacher," Elizabeth whispered gratefully. She took hold of Emmett's hand and gave him a small kiss on the lips. Hermione took her hand and Ron's. "Lead the way, 'Mione," Elizabeth whispered.

Hermione nodded and twirled on the spot. Darkness engulfed them, along with the sensation of compressing hands. Emmett's hand was vicelike upon Elizabeth's and she squeezed it reassuringly.

And they were gone.

* * *

><p><strong>And here's chapter nine!<strong>

**I hope you all enjoyed!**

**Review!**

**-The Girl with the Large Glasses**


	10. The Thief

**I OWN NOTHING!**

**Thanks to those who reviewed!**

_Elfin69_ - You'll just have to wait and see :) Keep reviewing!

_candinaru25_ - :)

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**Here's chapter ten!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>The Thief<span>

Elizabeth opened her eyes and was dazzled by gold and green; she had no idea what had happened, she only knew that was lying on Emmett, who was lying on what seemed to be leaves and twigs. Struggling to draw breath into lungs that felt flattened, she blinked and realized that the gaudy glare was sunlight streaming through a canopy of leaves far above her. She tried to push herself onto her hands and knees, but Emmett's arms were locked tight around her.

Elizabeth's first thought was the Forbidden Forest, and for a moment, even though she knew how foolish and dangerous it would be for them to appear in the grounds of Hogwarts, her heart leapt at the thought of sneaking through the trees to Hagrid's hut. It took her a moment to realize that it was just her and Emmett in the small clearing they were in.

"Are you alright?" Emmett asked, tightening his arms around her.

"Yeah, I'm—" then she saw that he was sparkling in the sunlight. "Emmett!" she gasped. "The sun!"

Emmett cursed and pulled them both to their feet.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron yelled from the other end of the clearing. He was staring at Emmett with a mixture of fear and shock.

Hermione took one look at Emmett, shrieked, and dived for her wand, "Vampire!"

Ron pulled out his wand faster than Elizabeth had ever seen him and pointed it at Emmett. She didn't here what he yelled: She was too busy throwing herself in front of Emmett and shouting,_ "Protego!"_

The protective shield when up in front of them and Ron's hex simply bounced off. Emmett snarled and pulled Elizabeth behind him. "Elizabeth!" Ron yelled. "What are you doing?"

"Just hear us out," Elizabeth pleaded, stepping out from behind Emmett.

Ron and Hermione stood frozen, their wands pointed directly at Emmett.

"Emmett doesn't drink human blood," Elizabeth began breathlessly. "He and his coven only drink animal blood—they call themselves vegetarians. He won't hurt us. I promise. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here right now."

Ron and Hermione stared at them suspiciously. Finally, slowly, they both lowered their wands. "Alright," said Ron in a low, dangerous voice. "But you listen to me, Cullen. You give me one reason—_one reason_ for me to think that you might harm 'Lizabeth, and I won't hesitate to kill you."

Ron and Emmett glowered at each other. There was a long, pregnant pause. It was broken when Kreacher Apparated right in front of Elizabeth, three bags in tow. Elizabeth gave a small yelp, but then sighed in relief. "Kreacher," she said. "Thanks again for helping us out back there."

"It was no problem, Mistress," Kreacher bowed low. "Kreacher has brought supplies and clothes for you. It is not safe to go back to Number 12."

"Yeah, how did they get in?" Hermione asked, stowing away her wand.

"Mundungus probably told someone," said Elizabeth bitterly. "Probably got cornered and was forced to tell." She looked around, "Where are we, anyway, Hermione?"

"In the woods where they held the Quidditch World Cup," she answered. "I wanted somewhere enclosed, undercover, and this was the first place I thought of."

"Kreacher has news," said Kreacher.

"What is it?" asked Ron.

"You-Know-Who's name," Kreacher croaked, "is a taboo. If you say the name, Death Eaters will be able to find you wherever you go. Kreacher heard Death Eaters talking about it at Number 12."

"Damn," Elizabeth muttered. "That's gonna be a heard habit to break. It's safe to say 'You-Know-Who'?"

Kreacher nodded.

"Thanks you, Kreacher, really," Elizabeth said and the others nodded. "For everything."

"Kreacher must go now," croaked the old elf. "Kreacher will find you and bring news as often as he can."

And he was gone.

Ron picked up the three bags that Kreacher had left. He rummaged through the first one, "This one's a tent." He looked through the second one, "This one's clothes." And he looked through the third one, "And this one's food." He snorted bitterly, "Kreacher must've known what Emmett was. There's plenty of blood bags in here. They're labeled what kind of animal they are."

"Where will we set up camp?" asked Hermione.

"There's a clearing back there. That's where Emmett and I landed," said Elizabeth. "We'll put up some protection charms and set up the tent. Come on."

They walked back into the clearing where Elizabeth and Emmett had landed. "Start setting up the tent, will you?" Elizabeth asked Ron. He nodded. Elizabeth began walking in a circle around the entire clearing, murmuring incantations as she went. There were little disturbances in the surrounding air: It was as if Elizabeth had cast a heat haze upon the clearing.

_"Salvio Hexia… Protego Totalum… Repollo Muggletum… Muffliato…"_

Meanwhile, Ron pulled out the tent and pointed his wand at it, _"Erecto!"_ In one fluid motion, the tent rose into the air and settled, fully constructed, onto the ground before them.

_"Cave Inimicum,"_ Elizabeth finished with a skyward flourish. "That's as much as I can do. At the very least, we should know they're coming, I can't guarantee it will keep You-Know-Who from finding us, though."

They all walked through the entrance of the tent. It was a small flat, complete with a bathroom and a tiny kitchen.

"I'll make some tea," said Hermione breathlessly. She pulled a kettle and mugs from the third bag and headed toward the kitchen.

"What are we going to do with this?" asked Ron, pulling the Horcrux from his pocket.

"Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it," Elizabeth replied, taking it from him. As much as she didn't want to, she hung the chain around her own neck, dropping the locket out of sight beneath her T-shirt, where it rested against her chest beside the pouch Hagrid had given her.

"I think we should take it in turns to keep watch outside the tent," she added to Hermione, standing up and stretching.

With the Sneakoscope Hermione had given Elizabeth for her birthday set carefully upon the table in the tent, they all shared the role of lookout for the rest of the day. However, the Sneakoscope remained silent and still upon its point all day and whether because of the protective enchantments and Muggle-repelling charms Elizabeth had spread around them, or because people rarely ventured this way, their patch of wood remained deserted, apart from the occasional birds and squirrels. Evening brought no change; Elizabeth lit her wand as she swapped places with Hermione at ten o'clock, and looked out upon a deserted scene, noting the bats fluttering high above her across the single patch of starry sky visible from their protected clearing.

The surrounding silence was broken by odd rustlings and what sounded like crackings of twigs: Elizabeth thought that they were caused by animals rather than people, yet she kept her wand held tight at the ready. Her insides tingled with unease.

Emmett came and sat down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side.

Nameless foreboding crept upon Elizabeth as she sat there in the dark: She tried to resist them, push hem away, yet they came at her relentlessly. Neither can live while the other survives. Ron and Hermione, now talking softly behind Elizabeth and Emmett in the tent, could walk away if they wanted to: She could not. And it seemed to Elizabeth as she sat there trying to master her own fear and exhaustion, that the Horcrux against her chest was ticking away the time she had left… Stupid idea, she told herself, don't think that…

"Hey," Emmett rubbed her arm. "You alright?"

Elizabeth nodded silently.

Her scar was starting to prickle again. She was afraid that she was making it happen by having these thoughts, and tried to direct them into another channel.

Her scar was burning now. She thought that there was so much they did not: Remus had been right about magic they had never encountered or imagined.

_"Give it to me, Gregorovitch."_

Elizabeth's voice was high, clear, and cold, her wand held in front of her by a long-fingered white hand. The man at whom she was pointing was suspended upside down in midair, thought there were no ropes holding him; he swung there, invisibly and eerily bound, his limbs wrapped about him, his terrified face, on a level with Elizabeth's, ruddy due to the blood that had rushed to his head. He had pure-white hair and a thick, bushy beard: a trussed-up Santa Clause.

"I have it not, I have it no more! It was, many years ago, stolen from me!"

"Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Gregorovitch. He knows…. He always knows."

The hanging man's pupils were wide, dilated with fear, and they seemed to swell, bigger and bigger until their blackness swallowed Elizabeth whole—

And now Elizabeth was hurrying along a dark corridor in stout little Gregorovitch's wake as he held a lantern aloft: Gregorovitch burst into the room at the end of the passage and his lantern illuminated what looked like a workshop; wood shavings and gold gleamed in the swinging pool of light, and there one the window ledge sat perched, like a giant bird, a young man with golden hair. In the split second that the lantern's light illuminated him, Elizabeth saw the delight upon his handsome face, then the intruder shot a Stunning spell from his wand and jumped neatly backward out the window with a crow of laughter.

And Elizabeth was hurtling back out of those wide, tunnellike pupils and Gregorovitch's face was stricken with terror.

_"Who was the thief, Gregorovitch?"_ said the high, cold voice.

_"I do not know, I never knew, a young man—no—please—PLEASE!"_

A scream that went on and on and then a burst of green light—

_"Elizabeth!"_

She opened her eyes, panting, her forehead throbbing. She had passed out against Emmett. She looked up at Hermione, whose bushy hair obscured the tiny patch of sky visible through the dark branches high above them. Emmett was holding her close.

"Dream," she said, sitting up quickly. "Must've dozed off, sorry."

"I know it was your scar! I can tell by the look on your face! You were looking into You-Know-Who's mind!"

"I didn't mean it to happen!" Elizabeth snapped. "It was a dream! Can _you_ control what you dream about, Hermione?"

"If you just learned to apply Occlumency—"

But Elizabeth was not interested in being told off; she wanted to discuss what she had just seen.

"He's found Gregorovitch, and I think he's killed him, but before he killed him he read Gregorovitch's mind and I saw—"

"I think I'd better take over the watch if you're so tired you're falling asleep," said Hermione coldly.

"I can finish the watch!"

"No, you're obviously exhausted. Go and lie down."

She dropped down in the mouth of the tent, looking stubborn. Angry, but wishing to avoid a row, Elizabeth and Emmett ducked back inside.

Ron's face was poking out from the top bunk; Elizabeth and Emmett both climbed into the one below him and laid down. Emmett wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest.

After several moments, Ron spoke in a voice so low that it would not carry to Hermione, huddled in the entrance.

"What's You-Know-Who doing?"

Elizabeth screwed up her eyes in the effort to remember every detail, then whispered into the darkness.

"He found Gregorovitch. He had him tied up, he was torturing him."

"How's Gregorovitch supposed to make him a new wand if he's tied up?"

"I dunno…. It's weird, isn't it?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes, thinking of all she had seen and heard. The more she recalled, the less sense it made… Voldemort had said nothing about her wand, nothing about the twin cores, nothing about Gregorovitch making a new and more powerful wand to beat Elizabeth's…

"He wanted something from Gregorovitch," Elizabeth said, eyes still closed tight. "He asked him to hand it over, but Gregorovitch said it had been stolen from him… and then… then… he read Gregorovitch's mind, and I saw this young bloke perched on a windowsill, and he fired a curse at Gregorovitch and jumped out of sight. He stole it, he stole whatever You-Know-Who's after. And I… I think I've seen him somewhere."

She wished she could have another glimpse of the laughing boy's face. The theft had happened many years ago, according to Gregorovitch. Why did the young thief look familiar?

The noises of the surrounding woods were muffled inside the tent; all Elizabeth could hear was Ron's breathing. After a while, Ron whispered, "Couldn't you see what the thief was holding?"

"No… it must've been something small."

"'Lizabeth?"

The wooden slats of Ron's bunk creaked as he repositioned himself in bed.

"Elizabeth, you don't reckon You-Know-Who's after something else to turn into a Horcrux?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth said slowly. "Maybe. But wouldn't it be dangerous for him to make another one? Hasn't he pushed his soul to the limit already?"

"Yeah, but maybe he doesn't know that."

"Yeah… maybe," said Elizabeth.

She had been sure that Voldemort had been looking for a way around the problem of the twin cores, sure that Voldemort sought a solution from the old wandmaker… and yet he had killed him, apparently without asking him a single question about wandlore.

What was Voldemort trying to find? Why with the Ministry of Magic and the Wizarding world at his feet, was he far away, intent on the pursuit of an object that Gregorovitch had once owned, and which had been stolen by the unknown thief?

Harry could still see the blond-haired youth's face; it was merry, wild; there was a Fred and George-ish air of triumphant trickery about him. He had soared from the windowsill like a bird, and Elizabeth had seen him before, but she could not think where.

With Gregorovitch dead, it was the merry-faced thief who was in danger now, and it was on him that Elizabeth's thoughts dwelled, as Ron's snores began to rumble from the top bunk. She sighed and burrowed closer to Emmett.

"Hey," Emmett said softly, rubbing her back comfortingly. "It'll all be okay."

Elizabeth stretched up and kissed him softly on the lips, "I know."

* * *

><p><strong>And here's chapter ten! I hope you all enjoyed!<strong>

**Review!**

**-The Girl with the Large Glasses**


	11. The Goblin's Revenge

**I OWN NOTHING!**

**Thanks to those who reviewed!**

Rori Potter - :)

Eflin69 - You'll just have to wait and see. :) Keep reviewing!

beauty0102 - :)

**Here's chapter eleven!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>The Goblin's Revenge<span>

The next morning, they all discussed what they were going to do next.

Elizabeth, Emmett, and Hermione all felt that it was best not to stay anywhere too long, and Ron agreed, with the sole proviso that their next move took them within reach of a bacon sandwich. Therefore, Emmett quickly scouted around the clearing to make sure that no one was around. Hermione then removed the enchantments Elizabeth had placed around the clearing, while Elizabeth and Ron obliterated all the marks and impressions on the ground that might show they had camped there. Then they Disapparated to the outskirts of a small market town.

Once they had pitched the tent in the shelter of a small copse of trees and surrounded it with freshly cast defensive enchantments, Elizabeth ventured out under the Invisibility Cloak to find sustenance. This, however, did not go as planned. She had barely entered the town when an unnatural chill, a descending mist, and a sudden darkening of the skies made her freeze where she stood.

"But you can still make a brilliant Patronus!" protested Ron, when Elizabeth arrived back at the ten empty-handed, out of breath, and mouthing the single word, _dementors_.

"I couldn't… make one," she panted, clutching the stitch in her side. "Wouldn't… come."

Ron and Hermione's expressions of consternation and disappointment made Elizabeth feel ashamed. It had been a nightmarish experience, seeing the dementors gliding out of the mist in the distance and realizing, as the paralyzing cold choked her lungs and a distant screaming filled her head, that she was not going to be able to protect herself. It had taken all Elizabeth's willpower to uproot himself from the spot and run, leaving the eyeless dementors to glide amongst the Muggles who might not be able to see them, but would assuredly feel the despair they cast wherever they went.

"So we still haven't got any food."

"Shut up, Ron," snapped Hermione. "Elizabeth, what happened? Why do you think you couldn't make your Patronus?"

"I don't know."

Elizabeth put her head in hands, feeling humiliated. She was afraid that something had gone wrong inside her.

Ron kicked a chair leg.

"What?" he snarled at Hermione. "I'm starving! All I've had is a couple of toadstools!"

"You go and fight your way through the dementors, then," said Elizabeth, looking up, hurt.

"Stop it," Emmett snarled at Ron, sitting down beside Elizabeth on her cot and pulling her into his side. "It's not her fault! Maybe it has something to do with the Horcrux!"

"Of course!" cried Hermione, clapping a hand to her forehead. "Elizabeth, give me the locket!"

She held out her hands, and Elizabeth lifted the golden chain over her head. The moment it parted contact with Elizabeth's skin she felt free and oddly light. She had not even realized that she was clammy or that there was a heavy weight pressing on her stomach until both sensations lifted.

"Better?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, loads better!"

"Elizabeth," she said, crouching down in front of her and using the kind of voice she associated with visiting the very sick, "you don't think you've been possessed, do you?"

"What? No!" she said defensively. "I remember everything we've done while I've been wearing it. I wouldn't know what I'd done if I'd been possessed, would I? Ginny told me there were times when she couldn't remember anything."

"Hmm," said Hermione, looking down at the heavy gold locket. "Well, maybe we ought not to wear it. We can just keep it in the tent."

"We are not leaving that Horcrux lying around," Elizabeth said firmly. "If we lose it, if it gets stolen—"

"Oh, all right, all right," said Hermione, and she placed it around her own neck and tucked it out of sight down the front of her shirt. "But we'll take turns wearing it, so nobody keeps it on long."

"Great," said Ron, irritably, "and now we've sorted that out, can we please get some food?"

"Fine, but we'll go somewhere else to find it," said Hermione with half a glance at Elizabeth. "There's no point staying where we know dementors are swooping around."

In the end, the settled down for the night in a far-flung field belonging to a lonely farm, from which they had managed to obtain eggs and bread.

"It's not stealing, is it?" asked Hermione in a troubled voice, as they devoured scrambled eggs on toast. "Not if I left some money under the chicken coop?"

Ron rolled his eyes and said, with his cheeks bulging, "'Er-my-nee, 'oo worry 'oo much. 'Elax!"

And it was much easier to relax when they were comfortably well fed: The argument about dementors was forgotten in laughter that night, and Elizabeth felt cheerful, even hopeful, as she took the first of the three night watches.

This was their first encounter with the fact that a full stomach meant good spirits; an empty one, bickering and gloom. Elizabeth was least surprised by this, because she had suffered periods of near starvation at the Durlsyes' (not that she'd mention that, especially with Emmett around). Hermione bore up reasonably well on those nights when they managed to scavenge nothing but berries or stale biscuits, her temper perhaps a little shorter than usual and her silences rather dour. Ron, however, had always been used to three delicious meals a day, courtesy of his mother or of the Hogwarts house-elves, and hunger made him both unreasonable and irascible. Whenever lack of food coincided with Ron's turn to wear the Horcrux, he became downright unpleasant.

"So where next?" was his constant refrain. He did not seem to have any ideas himself, but expected Elizabeth and Hermione and Emmett to come up with plans while he sat and brooded over the low food supplies. Accordingly, Elizabeth and Hermione spent fruitless hours trying to decide where they might find the other Horcruxes, and how to destroy the one they had already got. Their conversations were becoming increasingly repetitive as they had no new information.

"If there was one place that was really important to You-Know-Who, it was Hogwarts!" Elizabeth persisted one afternoon.

"Oh, come on," scoffed Ron. "His _school?"_

"Yeah, his school! It was his first really home, the place that meant he was special; it meant everything to him, and even after he left—"

"This is You-Know-Who we're talking about, right? Not you?" inquired Ron. He was tugging at the chain of the Horcrux around his neck: Elizabeth had the sudden desire to seize it and throttle him.

"No, Ron," Elizabeth said through gritted teeth.

Even without any new ideas, they continued to move through the countryside, pitching the tent in a different place each night for security. Every morning, they made sure that they had removed all clues to their presence, then set off to find another lonely and secluded spot, traveling by Apparition to more woods, to the shadowy crevices of cliffs, to purple moors, gorse-covered mountainsides, and once a sheltered and pebbly cove. Every twelve hours or so they passed the Horcrux between them as though they were playing some perverse, slow-motion game of pass-the-parcel, where they dreaded the music stopping because the reward was twelve hours of increased fear and anxiety.

Elizabeth's scar kept prickling. It happened most, she noticed, when she was wearing the Horcrux. Sometimes she could not stop herself reacting to the pain.

"What? What did you see?" demanded Ron, whenever he noticed Elizabeth wince.

"A face," muttered Elizabeth, every time, leaning into Emmett's arms, which would wrap around her every time. "The same face. The thief who stole from Gregorovitch."

And Ron would turn away, making no effort to hide his disappointment.

"I'm not a television, Ron," Elizabeth snapped once. "I can't just tune in to whatever I want to. It doesn't work that way."

Apparently Voldemort was dwelling endlessly on the unknown youth with the gleeful face, whose name and whereabouts, Elizabeth was sure, Voldemort knew no better than she did. As Elizabeth scar continued to burn and the merry, blond-haired boy swam tantalizingly in her memory, she learned to suppress any sign of pain or discomfort, for the other two showed nothing but impatience at the mention of the thief. She could not entirely blame them, when they were so desperate for a lead on the Horcruxes.

Ron was making no effort to hide his bad mood, and Elizabeth was starting to fear that Hermione too was disappointed by her poor leadership. Emmett tried to be supportive, but he just didn't know how to. In desperation, she tried to think of further Horcrux locations, but the only one that continued to occur to her was Hogwarts, and as neither of the others thought this was at all likely, she stopped suggesting it.

Autumn rolled over the countryside as they moved through it: They were now pitching the tent on mulches of fallen leaves. Natural mists joined those cast by the dementors; wind and rain added to their troubles. The fact that Hermione was getting better at identifying edible fungi could not altogether compensate for their continuing isolation, the lack of other people's company, or their total ignorance of what was going on in the war against Voldemort.

"My mother," said Ron one night, as they sat in the tent on a riverbank in Wales, "can make good food appear out of thin air."

"Your mother can't produce food out of thin air," said Hermione. "No one can. Food is the first of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfigur—"

"Oh, speak English, can't you?" Ron said, prising a fish bone out from beneath his teeth.

Elizabeth sighed inaudibly and leaned back against Emmett's chest. "And they're off," she murmured to him. Emmett snorted quietly and kissed her temple.

"It's impossible to make good food out of nothing! You can Summon it if you know where it is, you can transform it, you can increase the quantity if you've already got some—"

"Well, don't bother increasing this, it's disgusting," said Ron.

"Elizabeth caught the fish and we did our best with it. I notice Elizabeth and I are always the ones who end up sorting out the food, because we're _girls_, I suppose!"

"No, it's because you two are supposed to be the best at magic!" shot back Ron.

Hermione jumped up and bits of roast pike slid off her tin plate onto the floor.

"You can do the cooking tomorrow, Ron, you can find the ingredients and try and charm them into something worth eating, and Elizabeth and I'll sit here and pull faces and moan and you can see how you—"

"Shut up!" said Elizabeth, leaping to her feet and holding up both hands. "Shut up _now_!"

Hermione looked outraged.

"How can you side with him, he hardly ever does the cook—"

"Hermione, be quiet," Elizabeth turned to Emmett. "You hear that?"

"Yeah," Emmett nodded. "Voices. They're getting closer."

Elizabeth was listening hard, her hands still raised, warning them not to talk. Then, over the rush and gush of the dark river beside them, she heard voices again. She looked around at the Sneakoscope. It was not moving.

"You cast the Muffliato charm over us, right?" he whispered to Hermione.

"I did everything," she whispered back, "Muffliato, Muggle-Repelling and Disillusionment Charms, all of it. They shouldn't be able to hear or see us, whoever they are."

Heavy scuffing and scraping noises, plus the sound of dislodged stones and twigs, told them that several people were clambering down the step, wooded slope that descended to the narrow bank where they had pitched the tent. Elizabeth, Hermione, and Ron drew their wands, waiting. Emmett came up behind Elizabeth and put his hands on her shoulders. The enchantments they had cast around themselves ought to be sufficient, in the near total darkness, to shield them from the notice of Muggles and normal witches and wizards, if these were Death Eaters, then perhaps their defenses were about to be tested by Dark Magic for the first time.

The voices became louder, but no more intelligible as the group of men reached the bank. Elizabeth estimated that their owners were fewer than twenty feet away, but the cascading river made it impossible to tell for sure. Hermione snatched up the beaded bag and started to rummage; after a moment she drew out three Extendable Ears and threw one each to Elizabeth and Ron, who hastily inserted the ends of the flesh-colored strings into their ears and fed the other ends out of the tent entrance.

Within seconds Elizabeth heard a weary male voice.

"There ought to be a few salmon in here, or d'you reckon it's too early in the season? _Accio Salmon_!"

There were several distinct splashes and then the slapping sounds of fish against flesh. Somebody grunted appreciatively. Elizabeth pressed the Extendable ear deeper into her own: Over the murmur of the river she could make out more voices, but they were not speaking English or any human language she had heard. It was a rough and unmelodious tongue, a string of rattling, guttural noises, and there seemed to be two speakers, one with a slightly lower, slower voice than the other.

_Goblins!_ she mouthed to Hermione, who nodded. Ron looked confused.

A fire danced into life on the other side of the canvas; large shadows passed between tent and flames. The delicious smell of baking salmon wafted tantalizingly in their direction. Then came the clinking of cutlery on plates, and the first man spoke again.

"Here, Griphook, Gornuk."

"Thank you," said the goblins together in English.

"So, you three have been on the run how long?" asked a new, mellow, and pleasant voice; it was vaguely familiar to Elizabeth, who pictured a round-bellied, cheerful-faced man.

"Six weeks… seven… I forget," said the tired man. "Met up with Griphook in the first couple of days and joined forces with Gornuk not long after. Nice to have a bit of company." There was a pause, while knives scraped plates and tin mugs were picked up and replaced on the ground. "What made you leave, Ted?" continued the man.

"Knew they were coming for me," replied mellow-voiced Ted, and Elizabeth suddenly knew who he was: Tonks' father.

Ron and Hermione looked at Elizabeth, startled. _Muggle-born_, she mouthed. They nodded.

"Heard Death Eaters were in the area last week," he continued, "and decided I'd better run for it. Refused to register as a Muggle-born of principle, see, so I knew it was matter of time, knew I'd have to leave in the end. My wife should be okay, she's pure-blood. And then I met Dean here, what a few days ago, son?"

"Yeah," said another voice, and Elizabeth, Ron, and Hermione stared at each other, silent but beside themselves with excitement, sure they recognized the voice of Dean Thomas, their fellow Gryffindor.

"Muggle-born, eh?" asked the first man.

"Not sure," said Dean. "My dad left my mum when I was a kid. I've got no proof he was a wizard, though."

There was silence for a while, except for the sound of munching; then Ted spoke again.

"I've got to say, Dirk, I'm surprised to run into you. Pleased, but surprised. Word was you'd been caught."

"I was," said Dirk. "I was halfway to Azkaban when I made a break for it, Stunned Dawlish, and nicked his broom. It was easier than you'd think; I don't reckon he's quite right at the moment. Might be Confunded. If so, I'd like to shake the hand of the witch or wizard to did it, probably saved my life."

There was another pause in which the fire crackled and the river rushed on. Then Ted said, "And where do you two fit in, I, er, had the impression the goblins were for You-Know-Who, on the whole."

"You had a false impression," said the higher0voiced of the goblins. "We take no sides. This is a wizards' war."

"How come you're hiding, then?"

"I deemed it prudent," said the deeper-voiced goblin. "Having refused what I considered an impertinent request, I could see that my personal safety was in jeopardy."

"What did they ask you to do?" asked Ted.

"Duties ill-befitting the dignity of my race," replied the goblin, his voice rougher and less human as he said it. "I am not a house-elf."

"What about you, Griphook?"

"Similar reasons," said the high-voiced goblin. "Gringotts is no longer under the sole control of my race. I recognize to Wizarding master."

He added something under his breath in Gobbledegook, and Gornuk laughed.

"What's the joke?" asked Dean.

"He said," replied Dirk, "that there are things wizards don't recognize, either."

There was a short pause.

"I don't get it," said Dean.

"I had my small revenge before I left," said Griphook in English.

"Good man—goblin, I should say," amended Ted hastily. "Didn't manage to lock a Death Eater up in one of the old high-security vaults, I suppose?"

"If I had, the sword would not have helped him break out," replied Griphook. Gornuk laughed again and even Dirk gave a dry chuckle.

"Dean and I are still missing something here," said Ted.

"So is Severus Snape, though he does not know it," said Griphook, and the two goblins roared with malicious laughter. Inside the tent, Elizabeth's breathing was shallow with excitement: He and Hermione stared at each other, listening as hard as they could.

"Didn't you hear about that, Ted?" asked Dirk. "About the kids who tried to steal Gryffindor's sword out of Snape's office at Hogwarts?"

An electric current seemed to course through Elizabeth, jangling her every nerve as she stood rooted to the spot.

"Never heard a word," said Ted. "Not in the _Prophet_, was it?"

"Hardly," chortled Dirk. "Griphook here told me, he heard about it from Bill Weasley who works for the bank. One of the kids who tried to take the sword was Bill's younger sister."

Elizabeth glanced toward Hermione and Ron, both of whom were clutching the Extendable Ears as tightly as lifelines.

"She and a couple of friends got into Snape's office and smashed open the glass case where he was apparently keeping the sword. Snape caught them as they were trying to smuggle it down the staircase."

"Ah, God bless 'em," said Ted. "What did they think, that they'd be able to use the sword on You-Know-Who? Or on Snape himself?"

"Well, whatever they thought they were going to do with it, Snape decided the sword wasn't safe where it was," said Dirk. "couple of days later, once he'd got the say-so from You-Know-Who, I imagine, he sent it down to London to be kept in Gringotts instead."

The goblins started to laugh again.

"I'm still not seeing the joke," said Ted.

"It's a fake," rasped Griphook.

"The sword of Gryffindor!"

"Oh yes, it is a copy—an excellent copy, it is true—but it was Wizard-made. The original was forged centuries ago by goblins and had certain properties only goblin-made armor possesses. Wherever the genuine sword of Gryffindor is, it is not in a vault at Gringotts bank."

"I see," said Ted. "And I take it you didn't bother telling the Death Eaters this?"

"I saw no reason to trouble them with the information," said Griphook smugly, and now Ted and Dean joined in Gornuk and Dirk's laughter.

Inside the tent, Ron closed his eyes, willing someone to ask the question he needed answered, and after a minute that seemed ten, Dean obliged; he was (Ron remembered with a jolt) an ex-boyfriend of Ginny's.

"What happened to Ginny and the others? The ones who tried to steal it?"

"Oh, they were punished, and cruelly," said Griphook indifferently.

Elizabeth reached over and placed her hand on Ron's shoulder. He only pulled away.

"They're okay, thought?" asked Ted quickly. "I mean, the Weasleys don't need any more of their kids injured, do they?"

"They suffered no serious injury, as far as I am aware," said Griphook.

"Lucky for them," said Ted. "With Snape's track record I suppose we should just be glad they're still alive."

"You believe that story, then, do you, Ted?" asked Dirk. "You believe Snape killed Dumbledore."

Elizabeth's head snapped up.

"'Course I do," said Ted. "You're not going to sit there and tell me you think Potter had anything to do with it? She wasn't even here!"

Elizabeth looked around at Hermione and Ron. They both refused to meet her eyes.

"Hard to know what to believe these days," muttered Dirk.

"I know Elizabeth Potter," said dean. "We're friend actually. Same house at Hogwarts. And I reckon she's the real thing—the Chosen One, or whatever you want to call it."

"Yeah, there's a lot would like to believe she's that, son," said Dirk, "me included. But where is she?"

"Trying to save your sorry ass," muttered Elizabeth irritably. Emmett's hands on her shoulders tightened.

"Run for it, by the looks of things. You'd think if she knew anything we don't, or had anything special going for her, she'd be out there now fighting, rallying resistance, instead of hiding. And you know, the _Prophet_ made a pretty good case against her—"

"The _Prophet_?" scoffed Ted. "You deserve to be lied to if you're still reading teat muck, Dirk. You want the facts, try the _Quibbler_."

There was a sudden explosion of choking and retching, plus a good deal of thumping; by the sound of it, Dirk had swallowed a fish bone. At last he spluttered, "The _Quibbler_? That lunatic rag of Xeno Lovegood's?"

"It's not so lunatic these days," said Ted. "You want to give it a look. Xeno is printing all the stuff the Prophet's ignoring, not a single mention of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in the last issue. How long they'll let him get away with it, mind, I don't know. But Xeno says, front page of every issue, that any wizard who's against You-Know-Who ought to make helping Elizabeth Potter their number one priority."

"Hard to help the girl who's vanished off the face of the earth," said Dirk.

"Listen, the fact that they haven't caught her yet's one hell of an achievement," said Ted. "I'd take tips from him gladly; it's what we're trying to do, stay free, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well you've got a point there," said Dirk heavily. "With the whole of the Ministry and all their informers looking for her I'd have expected her to be caught by now. Mind, who's to say they haven't already caught and killed her without publicizing it?"

Emmett's hand moved from Elizabeth's shoulders to wrap around her waist possessively. And inaudible growl escaped his throat. Elizabeth placed her free hand over his and squeezed it.

"Ah, don't say that, Dirk," murmured Ted.

There was a long pause filled with more clattering of knives and forks. When they spoke again it was to discuss whether they ought to sleep on the bank or retreat back up the wooded slope. Deciding the trees would give better cover, they extinguished their fire, then clambered back up the incline, their voices fading away.

Elizabeth, Ron, and Hermione reeled in the Extendable Ears. Elizabeth sighed and leaned back against Emmett.

"Ginny—the sword—" said Hermione, who'd obviously found the need to remain silent increasingly difficult the longer they eavesdropped.

"I know," Elizabeth nodded.

Hermione lunged for the tiny beaded bag, this time sinking her arm in right up to the armpit.

"Here… we… are…" she said between gritted teeth, and she pulled at something that was evidently in the depths of the bag. Slowly, the edge of an ornate picture frame came into sight. Emmett reached over and easily pulled it out. The empty portrait of Phineas Nigellus came into view. Elizabeth pulled her wand and kept pointing it at the portrait, ready to cast a spell at any moment.

"If somebody swapped the real sword for the fake while it was in Dumbledore's office," Hermione panted, as they propped the painting against the side of the tent, "Phineas Nigellus would have seen it happen, he hangs right behind the case!"

"Unless he was asleep." Elizabeth knelt down in front of the empty canvas, her wand directed at its center, cleared her throat, then said:

"Er—Phineas? Phineas Nigellus?"

Nothing.

"Phineas Nigellus?" she said again. "Professor Black? Please, could we talk to you? Please?"

"'Please' always helps," said a cold, snide voice, and Phineas Nigellus slid into his portrait. At once, Elizabeth cried:

"_Obscuro!"_

A black blindfold appeared over Phineas Nigellus' clever, dark eeys, causing him to bump into the frame and shriek with pain.

"What—how dare—what are you—?"

"Very sorry, Professor Black," said Hermione, "but it's a necessary precaution!"

"Remove this foul addition at once! Remove it, I say! You are ruining a great work of art! Where am I? What is going on?"

"Never mind where we are," said Elizabeth, and Phineas froze, abandoning his attempt to peel off the painted blindfold.

"Can that possibly be the voice of the elusive Miss Potter?"

"Maybe," said Harry, knowing that this would keep Phineas' interest. "Or maybe I'm just a girl who needs information. Maybe I'm both. You don't know."

Emmett hid a snort with difficulty.

"We've got a couple of questions to ask you—about the sword of Gryffindor," Elizabeth continued.

"Ah," said Phineas, now turning his head this way and that in an effort to catch sight of Elizabeth, "yes. That silly girl acted most unwisely there—"

"Shut up about my sister," said Ron roughly. Phineas raised supercilious eyebrows.

"Who else is there?" he asked, turning his head from side to side. "Your tone displeases me! the girl and her friends were foolhardy in the extreme. Thieving from the headmaster!"

"They weren't thieving," said Elizabeth. "That sword isn't Snape's."

"It belongs to Professor Snape's school," said Phineas. "Exactly what claim did the Weasley girl have upon it? She deserved her punishment, as did the idiot Longbottom and the Lovegood oddity!"

"Neville is not an idiot and Luna is not an oddity!" said Hermione.

"Where am I?" repeated Phineas, starting to wrestle with the blindfold again. "Where have you brought me? why have you removed me from the house of my forebears?"

"Never mind that! How did Snape punish Ginny, Neville, and Luna?" asked Ron.

"Professor Snape—"

"Not my professor anymore," said Ron. "I won't call him 'Professor'."

"—sent them into the Forbidden Forest, to do some work for the oaf, Hagrid," Phineas continued, ignoring Ron.

"Hagrid's not an oaf!" said Hermione shrilly.

"And Snape might've thought that was a punishment," said Elizabeth, "but Ginny, Neville, and Luna probably had a good laugh with Hagrid. The Forbidden forest… they've faced plenty worse than the Forbidden Forest."

"What we really wanted to know, Professor Black," Hermione said, "is whether anyone else has, um, taken out the sword at all? Maybe it's been taken away for cleaning or—or something?"

Phineas paused again in his struggles to free his eyes and sniggered.

"_Muggle-borns_," he said. "Goblin-made armor does not require cleaning, simple girl. Goblins' silver repels mundane dirt, imbibing only that which strengthens it."

"Don't call Hermione simple," said Elizabeth.

"I grow weary of contradiction," said Phineas. "Perhaps it is time for me to return to the headmaster's office?"

Still blindfolded, he began groping the side of his frame, trying to feel his way out of his picture and back into the one at Hogwarts.

"Professor Black," said Hermione, "couldn't you just tell us, _please_, when was the last time the sword was taken out of its case? Before Ginny took it out, I mean?"

Phineas snorted impatiently.

"I believe that the last time I saw the sword of Gryffindor leave its case was when Professor Dumbledore used it to break open a ring."

Hermione whipped around to look at Elizabeth. Neither of them dared say more in front of Phineas, who had at last managed to locate the exit.

"Well, good night to you," he said a little waspishly, and he began to move out of sight again. Only the edge of his hat brim remained in view when Elizabeth gave a sudden shout.

"Wait! Have you told Snape you saw this?"

Phineas stuck his blindfolded head back into the picture.

"Professor Snape has more important things on his mind than the many eccentricities of Albus Dumbledore. _Good-bye_, Potter!"

"Elizabeth!" Hermione cried.

"I know!" Elizabeth shouted. Unable to contain herself, she punched the air; it was more than she had dared to hope for. She strode up and down the tent, feeling that she could have run a mile; she did not even feel hungry eve more. Emmett was laughing at her. Hermione was squashing Phineas Nigellus' portrait back into the beaded bag; when she had fastened the clasp she threw the bag aside and raised a shining face to Elizabeth.

"The sword can destroy Horcruxes! Goblin-made blades imbibe only that which strengthen them!" Hermione cried.

"Basilisk venom!" said Elizabeth. "Basilisk venom is one of the few substances that can destroy a Horcrux! When I stabbed the basilisk in second year… And Dumbledore didn't give it to me because he still needed it, he wanted to use it on the locket—"

"—and he must have realized they wouldn't let you have it if he put it in his will—"

"—so he made a copy—"

"—and put a fake in the glass case—"

"—and he left the real one—where?"

They gazed at each other; Elizabeth felt that the answer was dangling invisibly in the air above them, tantalizingly close.

"Think!" whispered Hermione. "Think! Where could he have left it?"

"Not at Hogwarts," said Elizabeth, resuming her pacing.

"Somewhere in Hogsmeade?" suggested Hermione.

"The Shrieking Shack?" said Elizabeth. "Nobody ever goes in there."

"But Snape knows how to get in, wouldn't that be a bit risky?"

"Dumbledore trusted Snape," Elizabeth reminded her.

"Not enough to tell him that he had swapped the swords," said Hermione.

"Yeah, you're right!" said Elizabeth, and she felt even more cheered at the thought that Dumbledore had, had some reservations, however faint, about Snape's trustworthiness. "So, would he have hidden the sword well away from Hogsmeade, then? What d'you reckon, Ron? Ron?"

Elizabeth looked around. For one bewildered moment she thought Ron had left the tent, then realized that Ron was lying in the shadow of a lower bunk, looking stony.

"Oh, remembered me, have you?" he said.

"What?"

Ron snorted as he stared up at the underside of the upper bunk.

"You two carry on. Don't let me spoil your fun."

Perplexed, Elizabeth looked to Hermione for help, but she shook her head, apparently as nonplussed as Elizabeth was.

"What's the problem?" asked Elizabeth.

"Problem? There's no problem," said Ron, still refusing to look at Elizabeth. "Not according to you, anyway."

There were several _plunks_ on the canvas over their heads. It had started to rain.

"Well, you've obviously got a problem," said Elizabeth. "Spit it out, will you?"

Ron swung his long legs off the bed and sat up. He looked mean, unlike himself.

"All right, I'll spit it out. Don't expect me to skip up and down the tent because there's some other damn thing we've got to find. Just add it to the list of stuff you don't know."

"I don't know?" repeated Elizabeth. "_I_ don't know?"

_Plunk, plunk, plunk_. The rain was falling harder and heavier; it pattered on the leaf-strewn bank all around them and into the river chattering through the dark. Dread doused Elizabeth's jubilation: Ron was saying exactly what she had suspected and feared him to be thinking.

"It's not like I'm not having the time of my life here," said Ron, "you know, with nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, you know, after we'd been running round a few weeks, we'd have achieved something."

"Ron," Hermione said, but in such a quiet voice that Ron could pretend not to have heard it over the loud tattoo the rain was now beating on the tent. Emmett frowned and stood.

"I thought you knew what you'd signed up for," said Elizabeth.

"Yeah, I thought I did too."

"So what part of it isn't living up to your expectations?" asked Elizabeth. Anger was coming to her defense now. "Did you think we'd be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you'd be back to Mummy by Christmas?"

"We thought you knew what you were doing!" shouted Ron, standing up, and his words pierced Elizabeth like scalding knives. "We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!"

"Ron!" Hermione cried, this time clearly audible over the rain thundering on the tent roof. Emmett took a step forward.

Elizabeth whipped out her wand and put a shield charm in front of her and Ron so that Hermione and couldn't get to them.

"I had a letter to go by, Ron," said Elizabeth, her voice quite calm even though she felt hallow, inadequate. "A _letter_. That's all. And all the letter said was that You-Know-Who had made a bunch of Horcruxes and that I needed to destroy them. It didn't say how to destroy them or anything. I'm just as lost as you are."

Ron snorted bitterly, "Yeah."

"Take off the locket, Ron," Elizabeth said.

Ron ignored her, "Didn't you hear what they said about my sister? But you don't give a rat's fart, do you, it's only the Forbidden Forest, Elizabeth _I've-Faced-Worse_ Potter doesn't care what happens to her in here—well, I do, all right, giant spiders and mental stuff—"

Elizabeth lunged forward and snatched the locket from Ron's neck. "Ron, listen to me," she said quietly, noticing how Ron's features relaxed a little. "I do care about, Ginny. I _do_. The Weasleys were the first family I ever had, you, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie… you all are my brothers, and that makes Ginny my sister, too. I only meant that they were with Hagrid, and Hagrid's more than capable of protecting them. Please, Ron, I know you're scared for your family. We all are. You're not alone. Just calm down. At least we know that they're okay."

Ron stared at her for a moment and then lowered his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Elizabeth stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. "It's alright," she whispered. "It's alright." She nodded to Hermione and Emmett to let them know that everything was alright.

"It's alright," she murmured once more.

* * *

><p><strong>Wow… that was crappy….<strong>

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed!**

**Review!**

**-The Girl with the Large Glasses**


	12. Chapter 12

**OHMIGOSH! I'M SO SORRY!**

Yes, I know this is just an author's note, but I promise, I will have a new chapter up either later today or tomorrow!

I do have a reason for not updating though…

I kinda got grounded off the computer for a month for putting some 'language' in my stories. I was also supposed to delete my account on and never get on it again. But I'm not going to do that. I'm out of school for summer and I'm at home alone, so I can still write and post, but I'll have to be careful. My mom has a habit of checking to see what all I've gotten on, so if I'm not careful, she'll know that I'm still writing stories. So my updates will be slower than they were before, but I promise that I won't make you wait a month!

I just thought I'd clear that up.

But I will update this story and my other two stories either later today or tomorrow. I promise!


	13. Godric's Hollow

**I OWN NOTHING!**

**Thanks to those who reviewed!**

_Rori Potter_ - :)

_Elfin69_ - We'll see...

_XlaraC_ - They might. I still haven't decided yet.

_Sarah R Potter_ - Yeah, that happens sometimes if I'm not watching what I'm doing *rubs back of neck sheepishly* Sorry.

_beauty0102_ - Here's your update! Sorry it took so long!

_jgood27_ - Thanks a bunch!

_cookyc_ - :)

_Blue Roselette_ - Wow, that's a lot of questions... I'm not going to even try and answer them all. You'll just have to wait and see! XD

_JadeObsession_ - Thank you very much!

**Here's chapter twelve!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Godric's Hollow<span>

The weather grew colder and colder. They did not dare remain in any one area too long, so rather than staying in the south of England, where a hard ground frost was the worst of their worries, they continued to meander up and down the country, braving a mountainside, where sleet pounded the tent; a wide, flat marsh, where the tent of flooded with chill water; and a tiny island in the middle of a Scottish loch, where snow half buried the tent at night.

They h ad already spotted Christmas trees twinkling from several living room windows before there came an evening when Elizabeth resolved to suggest, again, what seemed to her the only unexplored avenue left the them. She, Hermione, and Ron—who still couldn't quite look Elizabeth in the eye—had just eaten an unusually good meal: Hermione had been to a supermarket under the Invisibility Cloak (scrupulously dropping the money into an open till as she left), and Elizabeth thought she might be more persuadable than usual on a stomach full of spaghetti Bolognese and tinned pears. Elizabeth knew that Ron and Emmett would just follow her and Hermione wherever they went. Elizabeth had also had the foresight to suggest that they take a few hours' break from wearing the Horcrux, which was hanging over the end of the bunk beside her.

Emmett squeezed her shoulders and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Just ask, love," he murmured. "No point in putting it off."

Elizabeth smiled at him, "Alright."

She took a deep breath. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" Hermione was curled up in on of the sagging armchairs with _The Tales of Beedle the Bard._ Elizabeth could not imagine how put more she could get out of the book, which was not, after all, very long, but evidently she was still deciphering something in it, because _Spellman's Syllabary_ lay open on the arm of the chair.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. She felt exactly as she had done several years ago when she had asked Professor McGonagall whether she could go into Hogsmeade, despite the fact that she had not persuaded the Dursleys to sign her permission slip.

"Hermione, I've been thinking, and—"

"'Lizabeth, could you help me with something?"

Apparently, she had not been listening. She leaned forward and held out the book.

"Look at that symbol," she said, pointing to the top of a page. Above what Elizabeth assumed was the title of the story (being unable to read runes), there was a picture of what looked like a triangular eye, it pupil crossed with a vertical line.

"I never too Ancient Runes, Hermione."

"I know that, but it isn't a rune and it's not on the syllabary either. All alone I thought it was a picture of an eye, but I don't think it is! It's been inked in. look, somebody's drawn it there, it isn't really part of the book. Think, have you ever seen it before?"

"No… No, wait a moment," Elizabeth looked closer. "Isn't it the same symbol Luna's dad was wearing around his neck at the wedding?"

"Well, that's what I thought, too!"

"Then it's Grindelwald's mark."

Ron inched closer from his spot at the table. Hermione stared at Elizabeth, open mouthed.

"_What?"_

"Krum told me…"

"Oh, of course he did," Ron grumbled, crossing his arms.

Elizabeth ignored him and recounted the story that Victor Krum had told her at the wedding. Hermione looked astonished.

"_Grindelwald's_ mark?"

She looked from Elizabeth to the weird symbol and back again. "I've never heard the Grindelwald had a mark. There's no mention of it in anything I've ever read about him."

"Well, like I said, Krum reckoned that symbol was carved on a wall at Durmstrang, and Grindelwald put it there.

Hermione fell back into the old armchair, frowning.

"That's odd," she murmured.

"Yeah," Ron said. "If it's a symbol of Dark Magic, what's it doing in a book of children's stories?"

"Yeah, it is weird," said Elizabeth, falling back against Emmett's chest as his arms came around her waist. "And you'd think Scrimgeour would have recognized it. He was Minister, he ought to have been expert on Dark stuff."

"I know… Perhaps he thought it was an eye, just like I did. All the other stories have pictures over the titles."

Hermione did not speak again, but continued to pore over the strange mark. Elizabeth tried again.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"I've been thinking. I-I want to go to Godric's Hollow."

Ron looked up at Elizabeth sharply. Elizabeth ignored him and kept her gaze on Hermione. Hermione looked up at her, but her gaze was unfocused. Elizabeth was sure she was still thinking about the mysterious mark on the book.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I've been wondering that too. I really think we'll have to."

"Hermione!" Ron said. "Are you honestly—"

"Oh, be quiet, Ron," Hermione snapped. She turned back to Elizabeth. "I can't think of anywhere else the sword would be. It'll be dangerous, but the more I think about it, the more likely it seemed it's there. I mean, Godric's Hollow is Godric Gryffindor's birthplace."

Hermione opened the beaded bag and rummaged for a while, finally pulling out her old copy of _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot. She thumbed through it until she found the page she wanted.

"_Upon the signature of the International Statue of Secrecy in 1689,"_ she read aloud, _"wizards went into hiding for good. It was natural, perhaps, that they formed their own small communities within a community. Many small villages and hamlets attracted several magical families, who banded together for mutual support and protection. The villages of Tinworth in Cornwall, Upper Flagley in Yorkshire, and Ottery St. Catchpole on the south coast of England were notable homes to knots of Wizarding families who lived alongside tolerant and sometimes Confunded Muggles. Most celebrated of these half-magical dwelling places is, perhaps, Godric's Hollow, the West Country village where the great wizard Godric Gryffindor was born and where Bowman Wright, Wizarding smith, forged the first Golden Snitch. The graveyard is full of the names of ancient magical families, and this accounts, no doubt, for the stories of hauntings that have dogged the little church beside it for many centuries."_

"You and your parents aren't mentioned," Hermione said, closing the book, "because Professor Bagshot doesn't cover anything later than the end of the nineteenth century. But you see? Godric's Hollow, Godric Gryffindor, Gryffindor's sword; don't you think Dumbledore would have expected you to make the connection?"

"Well, yeah…" Elizabeth thought for a moment. "Bagshot lives in Godric's Hollow—wait a minute…" Elizabeth's eyebrows furrowed and she bit her lip.

"What is it?" Emmett asked, scooting closer.

"What if—what if Dumbledore gave the sword to Bagshot?"

Hermione considered it for a moment, "It's possible…"

"So?" Elizabeth grinned. "Are we going to Godric's Hollow?

"Yes, but we'll have to think it through carefully, Elizabeth…"

Ron snorted, crossed his arms, and grumbled, "We shouldn't risk it."

Elizabeth reached over and slapped him upside the head.

Elizabeth would gladly have set out for Godric's Hollow the following day, but Hermione had other idea. Convinced as she was that Voldemort would expect Elizabeth to return to the scene of her parents' deaths, she was determined that they would set off only after they had ensured that they had the best disguises possible. It was therefore a full week later—once they had surreptitiously obtained hairs from innocent Muggles who were Christmas shopping, and Elizabeth and Hermione had practiced Apparating and Disapparating while underneath the Invisibility Cloak together—because all four of them couldn't fit underneath the Invisibility Cloak, Ron and Emmett were going to Apparate separately—that Hermione agreed to make the journey.

When Elizabeth, Ron, and Hermione finally swallowed the Polyjuice Potion—it wouldn't have worked on Emmett—Ron transformed into a balding, middle-ages Muggle man, Hermione into his small, rather mousy wife, and Elizabeth into their seventeen year old daughter, with blonde, curly hair, and light blue eyes. The beaded bag containing all their possessions (apart from the Horcrux, which Emmett wore around his neck) was tucked into an inside pocket of Hermione buttoned-up coat.

"Be careful," Elizabeth told Ron and Emmett before she threw the Invisibility Cloak over her and Hermione, then they turned into the suffocating darkness once again.

Elizabeth opened her eyes. They were standing hand in hand in a snowy lane under a dark blue sky, in which the night's first stars were already glimmering feebly. Cottages stood on either side of the narrow road, Christmas decorations twinkling in their windows. A short way ahead of them, a glow of golden street lights indicated the center of the village.

Elizabeth pulled the Cloak off them and stowed it under her jacket.

There was a small Pop beside them and Ron and Emmett appeared. Emmett walked over and pulled Elizabeth against his side.

"Are we ready?" Hermione asked.

They all nodded and made their way forward unhampered, the icy air stinging their faces as they passed more cottages: any one of them might have been the one in which James and Lily had once lived or where Bathilda lives now.

Strung all around with colored lights, there was what looked like a war memorial in the middle, partly obscured by a windblown Christmas tree. There were several shops, a post office, a pub, and a little church whose stained-glass windows were glowing jewel-brigth across the square.

They heard a carol start up from inside the little church.

"Elizabeth, I think it's Christmas Eve!" said Hermione.

"It is?"

She had lost track of the date; they had not seen a newspaper for weeks.

"I'm sure it is," said Hermione, her eyes on the church. "They… they'll be in there, won't they? Your mum and dad? I can see the graveyard behind it."

Elizabeth turned her eyes to the church. Fear prickled at her heart. She had wanted to see her parents' graves so badly, but now that she was here…

She felt Emmett's arm tighten around her. Hermione reached for her hand. Ron put a hand on her shoulder. Hermione took the lead for the first time, pulling them all forward. Halfway across the square, however, she stopped dead.

"Elizabeth, look!"

She was pointing at the war memorial. As they had passed it, it had transformed. Instead of an obelisk covered in names, there was a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby girl sitting in her mother's arms. Snow lay upon all their head, like fluffy white caps.

Elizabeth drew closer, breaking free of Emmett's arms, and gazing up into her parents' faces. She had never imagined that there would be a statue… How strange it was to see herself represented in stone, a happy baby without a scar on her forehead…

"C'mon," said Elizabeth, when she had looked her fill, and they turned again toward the church. As they crossed the road, she glanced over her shoulder; the statue had turned back into the war memorial.

The singing grew louder as they approached the church. It made Elizabeth's throat constrict, it reminded her so much of Hogwarts, of Peeves bellowing rude versions of carols from inside suits of armor, of the Great Hall's twelve Christmas trees, of Dumbledore wearing a bonnet he had won in a cracker…

There was a kissing gate at the entrance to the graveyard. Hermione pushed it open as quietly as possible and they edged through it. On either side of the slippery path to the church doors, the snow lay deep an untouched. They moved off through the nsow, carving deep trenches behind them as they walked around the building, keeping to the shadows beneath the brilliant windows.

Behind the church, row upon row of snowy tombstones protruded from a blanket of pale blue that was flecked with dazzling red, gold, and green, wherever the reflections from the stained glass hit the snow. Elizabeth kept her hand closed tightly around the wand in the invisible wand holster around her waist. Ron moved toward the nearest grave.

"Look at this, it's an Abbott, could be some long-lost relation of Hannah's!"

"Keep your voice down!" Hermione begged him.

They waded deeper and deeper into the graveyard, gouging dark tracks into the snow behind them, stooping to peer at the words on old headstones, every now and then squinting into the surrounding darkness to make absolutely sure that they were unaccompanied.

"Elizabeth, here!"

Hermione was two rows of tombstones away; Elizabeth had to wade back to her, her heard positively banging in her chest.

"Is it—?"

"No, but look!"

She pointed to the dark stone. Elizabeth stooped down and saw, upon the frozen, lichen-spotted granite, the words KENDRA DUMBLEDORE and, a short way below her dates of birth and death, AND HER DAUGHTER ARIANA. There was also a quotation:

_Where your treasure it, there will your heart be also._

So Rita Skeeter and Muriel had got some of their facts right. The Dumbledore family had indeed lived here, and part of it had died here.

Seeing the grave was worse than hearing about it. Elizabeth could not help thinking that she and Dumbledore both had deep roots in this graveyard, and that Dumbledore ought to have told her so, yet he had never thought to share the connection. They could have visited the place together; for a moment Elizabeth imagined coming here with Dumbledore, of what a bond that would have been, of how much it would have meant to her. But it seemed that to Dumbledore, the fact that there families lay side by side in the same graveyard had been an unimportant coincidence, irrelevant, perhaps, to the job he wanted Elizabeth to do.

"Let's keep looking," she said, and she turned away, wishing she had not seen the stone: She did want her excited trepidation tainted with resentment.

"Here!" cried Hermione again a few moments later from out of the darkness. "Oh no, sorry! I thought it said Potter."

She was rubbing at a crumbling, mossy stone, gazing down at it, a little frown on her face.

"Elizabeth, come back a moment."

She did not want to be sidetracked again, and only grudgingly made her way back through the snow toward her.

"What?"

"Look at this!"

The grave was extremely old, weathered so that Elizabeth could hardly make out the name. Hermione showed her the symbol beneath it.

"Elizabeth, that's the mark in the book!"

Elizabeth peered at the place she indicated: The stone was so worn that it was hard to make out what was engraved there, though there did seem to be a triangular mark beneath the nearly illegible name.

"Yeah… it could be…"

Hermione lit her wand and pointed it at the name on the headstone.

"It says Ig—Ignotus, I think…"

"I'm going to keep looking for my parents, all right?" Elizabeth told her, a slight edge to her voice, and she set off again, leaving her crouched beside the old grave.

Every now and then she recognized a surname that, like Abbott, she had met at Hogwarts. Sometimes there were several generations of the same Wizarding family represented in the graveyard: Elizabeth could tell from the dates that it had either died out, or the current numbers had moved away from Godric's Hollow. Deeper and deeper amongst the graves she went, and every time she reached a new headstone she felt a little lurch of apprehension and anticipation.

The darkness and the silence seemed to become, all of a sudden, much deeper. Elizabeth looked around, worried, thinking of dementors, then realized that the carols had finished, that the chatter and flurry of churchgoers were fading away as they made their way back into the square. Somebody inside the church had just turned off the lights.

Then Hermione's voice came out of the blackness for the third time, sharp and clear from a few yards away.

"Elizabeth, they're here… right here."

And she knew by Hermione's tone that it was her mother and father this time. She moved toward her, feeling as if something heavy were pressing on her chest.

She could hear Emmett and Ron making their way toward them, but paid no attention.

The headstone was only two rows behind Kendra and Ariana's. It was made of white marble, just like Dumbledore's tomb, and this made it easy to read, as it seemed to shine in the dark.

JAMES POTTER LILY POTTER

Born 27 March 1960 Born 30 January 1960

Died 31 October 1981 Died 31 October 1981

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed it death._

Elizabeth knelt in front of her parents' grave. Tears came before she could stop them, boiling hot then instantly freezing on her face, and what was the point in wiping them off or pretending? She let them fall, her lips pressed hard together, looking down at the thick snow. This was the place where the last of Lily and James lay, bones now, surely, or dust, not knowing or caring that their living daughter stood so near, her heart still beating, alive because of their sacrifice and close to wishing that she was sleeping under the snow with them.

Emmett knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms. Hermione knelt on her other side and had took her hand again, gripping it tightly. Ron walked up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. She knew what he was thinking. He would've been crying, just as she was, if he was the one kneeling in front of _his_ parents' grave. He understood.

Elizabeth could not look at them, but squeezed Hermione's hand and leaned into Emmett's embrace. She was now taking deep, sharp gulps of air, trying to steady herself, trying to regain control. She should have brought something to give them, and she had not thought of it. Every plant in the graveyard was leafless and frozen. But Hermione raised her wand, moved it in a circle through the air, and a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed before them. Elizabeth caught it and laid it on her parent's grave.

As soon as she stood up she wanted to leave: She did not think she could stand another moment there. She put her arm around Emmett's waist and he put his around her shoulders. They turned in silence and walked away through the snow, past Dumbledore's mother and sister, back toward the dark church and the out-of-sight kissing gate.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, for those of you who didn't bother to read the author's note, I have a good reason for not updating. I kinda got grounded off the computer for a month because I had some language in my stories. I was supposed to delete my account here and never get on the site again, but what my mom doesn't know won't kill her, right? I'll have to be careful, though. She has a habit of checking what websites I've been on, so I'll have to be careful. I might not be able to update as often as before, so be patient! Please!<strong>

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Review!**

**-The Girl with the Large Glasses**


	14. Bathilda's Secret

**I OWN NOTHING!**

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* * *

><p><span>Bathilda's Secret<span>

"Stop," said Hermione and Elizabeth at the same time.

"What's wrong?" asked Ron.

They had only just reached the grave of the unknown Abbott.

"There's someone there. Someone watching us. I can tell. There, over by the bushes," said Hermione, pointing.

They all stood quite still, holding on to each other, gazing at the dense black boundary of the graveyard.

"Are you sure?" asked Ron.

"I saw something move, I could have sworn I did…"

"Do you hear anything, Emmett?" Elizabeth asked.

He shook his head and tightened his arm around her.

Hermione broke from them to free her wand arm. Elizabeth did the same.

"We look like Muggles," Ron pointed out.

"Muggles who've just been laying flowers on Elizabeth's parents' grave! Ron, I'm sure there's someone over there!"

There was a rustle and saw a little eddy of dislodged snow in the bush to which Hermione and Elizabeth had pointed.

"It's a cat," said Ron after a second or two, "or a bird. If it was a Death Eater we'd be dead by now. But let's get out of here, and you and Elizabeth can put the Cloak back on."

They glanced back repeatedly as they made their way out of the graveyard. Elizabeth was glad to reach the gate and the slippery pavement. She and Hermione pulled the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves. The pub was fuller than before: Many voices inside it were now singing the carol that they had heard as they approached the church. For a moment Elizabeth considered suggesting they take refuge inside it, but before she could say anything Hermione murmured, "Let's go this way," and pulled them down the dark street leading out of the village in the opposite direction from which they had entered. Elizabeth could make out the point where the cottages ended and the lane turned into open country again. They walked as quickly as they dared, past more windows sparkling with multicolored lights, the outlines of Christmas trees dark through curtains.

"How are we going to find Bathilda's house?" asked Hermione, who was shivering a little and kept glancing back over her shoulder. "Elizabeth? What do you think? Elizabeth?"

She tugged at Elizabeth's arm, but Elizabeth was not paying attention. She was looking toward the dark mass that stood up at the very end of this row of houses. She sped up.

"Elizabeth—"

"Look at it…"

"I don't… oh!"

She could see it; the Fidelius Charm must have died with James and Lily. The hedge had grown wild in the sixteen years since Hagrid had taken Elizabeth from the rubble that lay scattered amongst the waist-high grass. Most of the cottage was still standing, though entirely covered in dark ivy and snow, but the right side of the top floor had been blown apart; that, Elizabeth was sure, was where the curse had backfired. She, Hermione, Ron, and Emmett stood at the gate, gazing up at the wreck of what must once have been a cottage just like those that flanked it. Elizabeth pulled off the Cloak.

"I wonder why nobody's ever rebuilt it?" whispered Hermione.

"Maybe you can't rebuild it?" Harry replied. "Maybe it's like the injuries from Dark Magic and you can't repair the damage?"

She grasped the snowy and thickly rusted gate, not wishing to open it, but simply to hold some part of the house.

"You're not going to go inside? It looks unsafe, it might—oh, 'Lizabeth, look!"

Her touch on the gate seemed to have done it. A sign had risen out of the ground in front of them, up through the tangles of nettles and weeds, like some bizarre, fast-growing flower, and in golden letters upon the wood it said:

On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981,

Lily and James Potter lost their lives.

Their daughter, Elizabeth, remains the only witch

ever to have survived the Killing Curse.

This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left

in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters

and as a reminder of the violence

that tore apart their family.

And all around these neatly lettered words, scribbles had been added by other witches and wizards who had come to see the place where the Girl Who Lived had escaped. Some had merely signed their names in Everlasting Ink; others had carved their initials into the wood, still others had left massages. The most recent of these, shining brightly over sixteen years' worth of magical graffiti, all said similar things.

_Good luck, Elizabeth, wherever you are._

_If you read this, Elizabeth, we're all behind you!_

_Long live Elizabeth Potter._

"They shouldn't have written on the sign!" said Hermione, indignant.

But Elizabeth beamed.

"It's brilliant. I'm glad they did. I…"

She broke off. A heavily muffled figure was hobbling up the lane toward them, silhouetted by the bright lights in the distant square. Elizabeth thought, though it was hard to judge, that the figure was a woman. She was moving slowly, possibly frightened of slipping on the snowy ground. Her stoop, her stoutness, her shuffling gait all gave an impression of extreme age. They watched in silence as she drew nearer. Elizabeth was waiting to see whether she would turn into any of the cottages she was passing, but she knew instinctively that she would not. At last she came to a halt a few yards from them and simply stood there in the middle of the frozen road, facing them.

She obviously wasn't a Muggle. She gazed at the house that was supposed to invisible to her. After a few moments, she raised a gloved hand and beckoned.

Hermione moved closer to Elizabeth, her arm pressed again hers. Emmett stepped closer as well.

The woman beckoned again, more vigorously. Elizabeth could think of many reasons not to obey the summons, and yet her suspicions about her identity were growing stronger every moment that they stood facing each other in the deserted street.

Finally, Elizabeth spoke, causing Hermione to gasp and jump.

"Are you Bathilda?"

The muffled figure nodded and beckoned again.

Elizabeth and Hermione looked at each other. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows; Hermione gave a tiny, nervous nod.

They stepped toward the woman—Emmett and Ron gave tiny noises of protest—and, at once, she turned and hobbled off back the way they had come. Leading them past several houses, she turned in at a gate. They followed her up the front path through a garden nearly as overgrown as the one they had just left. She fumbled for a moment with a key at the front door, then opened it and stepped back to let them pass.

She smelled bad, or perhaps it was her house: Elizabeth wrinkled her nose as they sidled past her. Now that she was beside her, she realized how tiny she was; bowed down with age, she came barely level with Elizabeth's chest. She closed the door behind them, her knuckles blue and mottled against the peeling paint, then turned and peered into Elizabeth's face. Her eyes were thick with cataracts and sunken into folds of transparent skin, and her whole face was dotted with broken veins and liver spots. Elizabeth wondered whether she could make her out at all; even if she could, it was the young blonde whose identity Elizabeth had stolen she would see.

The odor of old age, of dust, of unwashed clothes and stale food intensified as she unwound a moth-eaten black shawl, revealing a head of scant white hair through which the scalp showed clearly.

"Bathilda?" Elizabeth repeated.

She nodded again. Elizabeth became aware of the locket against her skin; the thing inside it that sometimes ticked or beat had woken; she could feel it pulsing through the cold gold.

Bathilda shuffled past them, pushing Hermione aside as though she had not seen her, and vanishing into what seemed to be a sitting room.

"I'm not sure about this," breathed Hermione.

"I think we could overpower her if we had to," said Elizabeth. "Listen, I should have told you. I knew she wasn't all there. Muriel called her 'gaga.'"

"Come!" called Bathilda from the next room.

Hermione jumped and clutched Elizabeth's arm.

"It's okay," said Elizabeth reassuringly as she led the way into the sitting room.

Bathilda was tottering around the place lighting candles, but it was still very dark, not to mention extremely dirty. Thick dust crunched beneath their feet. Elizabeth wondered when was the last time anyone had been inside Bathilda's house to check whether she was coping. She seemed to have forgotten that she could do magic, too, for she lit the candles clumsily by hand, her trailing lace cuff in constant danger of catching fire.

"Let me do that," offered Elizabeth, and she took the matched from her. She stood their watching him as he finished lighting the candle stubs that stood on saucers around the room, perched precariously on stacks of books and on side tables crammed with cracked and moldy cups.

The last surface on which Elizabeth spotted a candle was a bow-fronted chest of drawers on which there stood a large number of photographs. When the flame danced into life, its reflection wavered on their dusty glass and silver. She saw a few tiny movements from the pictures. As Bathilda fumbled with logs for the fire, Elizabeth muttered "_Tergeo_"; The dust vanished from the photographs, and she saw at once that half a dozen were missing from the largest and most ornate frames. She wondered whether Bathilda or somebody else had removed them. then the sight of a photograph near the back of the collection caught her eye, and she snatched it up.

It was the golden-haired, merry-faced thief, the young man who had perched on Gregorovitch's windowsill, smiling lazily up at Elizabeth out of the silver frame. And it came to Elizabeth instantly where she had seen the boy before; _in The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_, arm in arm with the teenage Dumbledore, and that must be where all the missing photographs were: in Rita's book.

"Mrs.—Miss—Bagshot?" she said, and her voice shook slightly. "Who is this?"

Bathilda was standing in the middle of the room watching Hermione light the fire for her.

"Miss Bagshot?" Elizabeth repeated, and she advanced with the picture in her hands as the flames burst into life in the fireplace. Bathilda looked up at her voice, and the Horcrux beat faster upon her chest.

"Who is this person?" Elizabeth asked her, pushing the picture forward.

She peered at it solemnly, then up at Elizabeth.

"Do you know who this is?" she repeated in a much slower and louder voice than usual. "This man? Do you know him? What's his name?"

Bathilda merely looked vague. Elizabeth felt an awful frustration. How had Rita Skeeter unlocked Bathilda's memories?

"Who is this man?" she repeated loudly.

"'Lizabeth, what are you doing?" asked Emmett, shuffling closer.

"This picture! It's the thief, the thief who stole from Gregorovitch! Please!" she said to Bathilda. "Who is this?"

But she only stared at her.

"Why did you ask us to come with you, Miss Bagshot?" asked Hermione, raising her own voce. "Was there something you wanted to tell us?"

Giving no sign that she had heard Hermione, Bathilda now shuffled a few steps closer to Elizabeth. With a little jerk of her head she looked back into the hall.

"You want us to leave?" Ron asked.

Bathilda repeated the gesture, this time pointing firstly at Elizabeth, then at herself, then at the ceiling.

"Oh, right… Hermione, Ron, Emmett, I think she wants me to go upstairs with her."

"All right," said Hermione, "let's go."

But when Hermione moved, Bathilda shook her head with surprising vigor, once more pointing first at Elizabeth, then to herself.

"She wants me to go with her, alone."

"No, no way," said Emmett, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Maybe Dumbledore told her to give the sword to me and only to me?"

"Do you really think she knows who you are?"

"Yes," said Elizabeth, looking down into the milky eyes fixed upon her own, "I think she does."

"Well, okay then, but be quick, Elizabeth."

"What? No!" said Emmett. "No way am I letting you go—"

"Emmett, if she has the sword," Elizabeth cut in quietly, "I have to go."

Emmett looked between Elizabeth and Bathilda a few times before he sighed and let go of her waist.

"Lead the way," Elizabeth told Bathilda.

She seemed to understand, because she shuffled around her toward the door. Elizabeth glanced back at Hermione, Ron, and Emmett with a reassuring smile. As Elizabeth walked out of the room she slipped the silver-framed photograph of the unknown thief inside her jacket.

The stairs were steep and narrow: Elizabeth was half tempted to place her hands on Bathilda's back to ensure that she did not topple over backward on top of her, which seemed only too likely. Slowly, wheezing a little, she climbed to the upper landing, turned immediately right, and led her into a low-ceilinged bedroom.

It was pitch-black and smelled horrible: Elizabeth had just made out a chamber pot protruding from under the bed before Bathilda closed the door and been that was swallowed by the darkness.

"_Lumos,"_ said Elizabeth, and her wand ignited. She gave a started: Bathilda had moved close to her in those few seconds of darkness, and she had not heard her approach.

"You are Potter?" she whispered.

"Yes, I am."

She nodded slowly, solemnly. Elizabeth felt the Horcrux beating fast, faster than her own heart: It was an unpleasant, agitating sensation.

"Have you got anything for me?" Elizabeth asked, but Bathilda seemed distracted by her lit wand-tip.

"Have you got anything for me?" she repeated.

Then Bathilda closed her eyes and several things happened at once: Elizabeth's scar prickled painfully; the Horcrux twitched so that the front of her sweater actually moved; the dark, fetid room dissolved momentarily. She felt a leap of joy and spoke in a high, cold voice: _Hold her!_

Elizabeth swayed where she stood: The dark, foul-smelling room seemed to close around her again; she did not know what had just happened.

"Have you got anything for me?" she asked for a third time, much louder.

"Over here," she whispered, pointing to the corner. Elizabeth raised her wand and saw the outline of a cluttered dressing table beneath the curtained window.

This time Bathilda did not lead her. Elizabeth edged between her and the unmade bed, her wand raised. She did not want to look away from her.

"What is it?" she asked as she reached the dressing table, which was heaped high with what look and smelled like dirty laundry.

"There," she said, pointing at the shapeless mass.

And in the instant that Elizabeth look away, her eyes raking the tangled mess for a sword hilt, a ruby, Bathilda moved weirdly: She saw it out of the corner of her eye; panic made her turn and horror paralyzed her as she saw the old body collapsing and the great snake pouring from the place where her neck had been.

The snake struck as she raised her wand: The force of the bite to her forearm sent the wand spinning up toward the ceiling; its light swung dizzyingly around the room and was extinguished: Then a powerful blow from the tail to her midriff knocked the breath out of her: She fell backward onto the dressing table, into the mound of filthy clothing—

She rolled sideways, narrowly avoiding the snake's tail, which thrashed down upon the table where she had been a second earlier: Fragments of the glass surface rained upon her as she hit the floor. From below she heard Emmett call, "Liz?"

She could not get enough breath into her lungs to call back: Then the heavy smooth mass smashed her to the floor and she felt it slide over her, powerful, muscular—

"_Yes,"_ whispered the voice_. "Yesss… hold you… hold you…"_

The snake coiled itself around her torso, squeezing the air from her, pressing the Horcrux hard into her chest, a circle of ice that throbbed with life, inches from her own frantic heart, and her brain was flooding with cold, white light, all thought obliterated, her own breath drowned, distant footsteps, everything going…

A metal heart was banging outside her chest, and now she was flying, flying with triumph in her heart, without need of broomstick or thestral…

She was abruptly awake in the sour-smelling darkness; Nagini had released her. She scrambled up and saw the snake outlined against the landing light: It struck, and Hermione dived aside with a shriek; her deflected curse hit the curtained window, which shattered. Elizabeth could hear Emmett and Ron screaming she and Hermione's name from the doorway as they tried to get to them, but couldn't because of the snake. Frozen air filled the room as Elizabeth ducked to avoid another shower of broken glass and her foot slipped on a pencil-like something—her wand—

She bent and snatched it up, but now the room was full of the snake, its tail thrashing; Hermione was nowhere to be seen and for a moment, Elizabeth thought the worst, but then there was a loud bang and a flash of red light, and the snake flew into the air, smacking Elizabeth hard in the face as it went, coil after heavy coil rising up to the ceiling. Elizabeth raised her wand, but as she did so, her scar seared more painfully, more powerfully than it had done in years.

"He's coming! _Hermione, he's coming!"_

As she yelled the snake fell, hissing wildly. Everything was chaos: It smashed shelves from the wall, and splintered china flew everywhere as Elizabeth jumped over the bed and seized the dark shape she knew to be Hermione—

Hermione shrieked with pain as Elizabeth pulled her back across the bed: The snake reared again, but Elizabeth knew that worse than the snake was coming, was perhaps already at the gate, her head was going to split open with the pain from her scar—

The snake lunged as she took a running leap, dragging Hermione with her. As it struck, Hermione screamed, "Confringo!" and her spell flew around the room, exploding the wardrobe mirror and ricocheting back at them, bouncing from floor to ceiling; Elizabeth felt the heat of it sear the back of her hand. Glass cut her cheek as, pulling Hermione with her—and feeling rather than seeing Emmett grab her arm and Ron, Hermione's—she leapt from bed to broken dressing table and then straight out of the smashed window into nothingness, Hermione's scream reverberating through the night as they twisted in midair…

And then her scar burst open and she was Voldemort and she was running across the fetid bedroom, her long white hands clutching at the windowsill as she glimpsed the bald man, little woman, blonde girl, and young man twist and vanish, and she screamed with rage, a scream that mingled with the girl's, that echoed across the dark gardens over the church bells winding in Christmas Day…

And his scream was Elizabeth's scream, his pain was Elizabeth's pain… that it could happen here, where it had happened before… here, within sight of that house where he had come so close to knowing what it was to die… to die… The pain was so terrible… ripped from her body… But if she had no body, why did her head hurt so badly; if she was dead, how could feel so unbearably, didn't pain cease with death, didn't it go…

_The night wet and windy, two children dressed as pumpkins waddling across the square, and the shop windows covered in paper spiders, all the tawdry Muggle trappings of a world in which they did not believe… And she was gliding along, that sense of purpose and power and rightness in her that she always knew on these occasions… Not anger… that was for weaker souls than she… but triumph, yes… She had waited for this, she had hoped for it…_

"_Nice costumed, mister!"_

_She saw the small boy's smile falter as he ran near enough to see beneath the hood of the cloak, saw the fear cloud his painted face: Then the child turned and ran away… Beneath the robe she fingered the handle of her wand… One simple movement and the child would never reach his mother… but unnecessary, quite unnecessary…_

_And along a new and darker street she moved, and now her destination was in sight at last, the Fidelius Charm broken, thought they did not know it yet… And she made less noise than the dead leaves slithering along the pavement as she drew level with the dark hedge, and stared over it…_

_They had not drawn the curtains; she saw them quite clearly in their little sitting room, the tall black-haired man in his glasses, making puffs of colored smoke erupt from his wand for the amusement of the small black-haired girl in her blue pajamas. The child was laughing and trying to catch the smoke, to grab it in her small fist…_

_A door opened and the mother entered saying words she could not hear, her long dark-red hair falling over her face. Now the father scooped up the daughter and handed her to the mother. He threw his wand down upon the sofa and stretched, yawning…_

_The gate creaked a little as she pushed it open, but James Potter did not hear. Her white hand pulled out the wand beneath her cloak and pointed it at the door, which burst open._

_She was over the threshold as James came sprinting into the hall. It was easy, too easy, he had not even picked up his wand…_

"_Lily, take Lizzy and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"_

_Hold her off, without a wand in his hand!... She laughed before casting the curse…_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_The green light filled the cramped hallway, it lit the pram pushed against the wall, it made the banisters glare like lightning rods, and James Potter fell like a marionette whose strings were cut…_

_She could hear her screaming from the upper floor, trapped, but as long as she was sensible, she, at least, had nothing to fear… She climbed the steps, listening with faint amusement to her attempts to barricade herself in… She had no wand upon her either… How stupid they were, and how trusting, thinking that their safety lay in friends, that weapons could be discarded even for moments…_

_She forced the door open, cast aside the chair and boxes hastily piled against it with one lazy wave of her wand… and there she stood, the child in her arms. At the sight of her, she dropped her daughter into the crib behind her and threw her arms wide, as if this would help, as if in shielding her from sight she hoped to be chosen instead…_

"_Not 'Lizabeth, not 'Lizabeth, please not Elizabeth!"_

"_Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now."_

"_Not 'Lizabeth, please no, take me, kill me instead—"_

"_This is my last warning—"_

"_Not 'Lizabeth! Please… have mercy… have mercy… Not 'Lizabeth! Not 'Lizabeth! Please—I'll do anything—"_

"_Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"_

_She could have forced her away from the crib, but it seemed more prudent to finish them all…_

_The green light flashed around the room and she dropped like her husband. The child had not cried all this time: She could stand, clutching the bars of her crib, and she looked up into the intruder's face with a kind of bright interest, perhaps thinking that it was her father who hid beneath the cloak, making more pretty lights, and her mother would pop up any moment, laughing—_

_She pointed the wand very carefully into the girl's face: She wanted to see it happen, the destruction of this one, inexplicable danger. The child began to cry: It had seen that she was not James. She did not like it crying, she had never been able to stomach the small ones whining in the orphanage—_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_And then she broke: She was nothing, nothing but pain and terror, and she must hide herself, not here in the rubble of the ruined house, where the child was trapped and screaming, but far away… far away…_

"No," she moaned.

_The snake rustled on the filthy, cluttered floor, and she had killed the girl, and yet she _was_ the girl…_

"No…"

_and now she stood at the broken window of Bathilda's house, immersed in memories of her greatest loss, and at her feet the great snake slithered over broken china and glass… She looked down and saw something… something incredible…_

"No…"

"Elizabeth, it's all right, you're all right!"

_She stooped down and picked up the smashed photograph. There he was, the unknown thief, the thief she was seeking…_

"No… I dropped it… I dropped it…"

"Elizabeth, it's okay, wake up, wake up!"

She was Elizabeth… Elizabeth, not Voldemort… and the thing that was rustling was not a snake… She opened her eyes.

Hermione and Ron were leaning over her, concern etched deeply on both of their faces.

"Elizabeth," Hermione whispered. "Do you feel all—all right?"

"Yes," she lied.

She was in the tent, lying on one of the lower bunks beneath a heap of blankets. She could tell that it was almost dawn by the stillness and the quality of the cold, flat light beyond the canvas ceiling. She was drenched in sweat; she could feel it on the sheets and blankets.

"We got away."

"Yes," said Hermione. "I had to use a Hover Charm to get you into your bunk, I couldn't lift you. You've been… Well, you haven't been quite…"

There were purple shadows under both of their eyes and she noticed a small sponge in Hermione's hand: She had been wiping her face.

"You've been ill," Ron finished for her. "Quite ill."

"How long ago did we leave?"

"Hours ago. It's nearly morning."

"And I've been… what, unconscious?"

"Not exactly," said Hermione uncomfortably. "You've been shouting and moaning and… things," she added in a tone that made Elizabeth feel uneasy. What had she done? Screamed curses like Voldemort, cried like the baby in the crib?

"I had to Stun Emmett," Ron said quietly, motioning to the corner of the tent. Elizabeth stared at her unconscious heap of vampire boyfriend for a moment before turning her attention back to Ron and Hermione.

"I couldn't get the Horcrux off you," Hermione said, and she knew she wanted to change the subject. "It was stuck, stuck to your chest. You've got a mark; I'm sorry, I had to use a Severing Charm to get it away. The snake bit you too, but I've cleaned the wound and put some dittany on it…"

Ron turned away as Elizabeth gently pulled the sweaty T-shirt she was wearing away from herself and look down. There was a scarlet oval over her heart where the locket had burned her. She could also see the half-healed puncture marks to her forearm.

"Where've you put the Horcrux?" she asked as she put the T-shirt back on. Ron turned back around.

"In my bag. I think we should keep it off for a while."

Elizabeth lay back on her pillows and looked into Hermione's pinched gray face.

"We shouldn't have gone to Godric's Hollow. It's my fault, it's all my fault, Hermione, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I wanted to go too; I really thought Dumbledore might have left the sword there for you."

"Yeah, well… we got that wrong, didn't we?"

"What happened, Liz?" asked Ron. "What happened when she took you upstairs? Was the snake hiding somewhere? Did it just come out and kill her and attack you?"

"No," she said. "_She_ was the snake… or the snake was her… all along."

"W-what?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She could still smell Bathilda's house on her: It made the whole thing horribly vivid.

"Bathilda must've been dead a while. The snake was… was inside her. You-Know-Who put it there in Godric's Hollow, to wait. You were right. He knew I'd go back."

"The snake was _inside_ her?"

She opened her eyes again: Ron and Hermione looked revolted, nauseated.

"She didn't want to talk in front of you, because it was Parseltongue, all Parseltongue, and I didn't realize, but of course I could understand her. Once we were up in the room, the snake sent a message to You-Know-Who, I heard it happen inside my head, I felt him get excited, he said to keep me there… and then…"

She remembered the snake coming out of Bathilda's neck: Ron and Hermione did not need to know the details.

"… she changed, changed into the snake, and attacked."

She looked down at the puncture marks.

"It wasn't supposed to kill me, just keep me there till You-Know-Who came."

If she had only managed to kill the snake, it would have been worth it, all of it… Sick at heart, she sat up and threw back the covers.

"Elizabeth, no, I'm sure you ought to rest!" Hermione cried. Ron tried to gently push her back down.

"You two are the ones who need sleep. No offense, but you look terrible. I'm fine. I'll keep watch for a while. Where's my wand?"

Neither of them answered, but merely looked at her.

"Where's my wand?"

Hermione was biting her lip, and tears swam in her eyes. Ron looked forlorn.

"Elizabeth…"

"_Where's my wand?"_

Hermione reached down beside the bed and held it out to her.

The holly and phoenix wand was nearly severed in two. One fragile strand of phoenix feather kept both pieces hanging together. The wood had splintered apart completely. Elizabeth took it into her hands as though it was a living thing that had suffered a terrible injury. She felt tears fill her eyes. You couldn't repair a wand with this much damage.

"'Lizabeth, mate, I'm really sorry," Ron said, sitting down and—doing something that shocked Elizabeth to no end—wrapped a supportive and brotherly arm around her shoulder.

"Lizzy," Hermione whispered so quietly she could hardly hear her. "I'm so, so sorry. I think it was me. as we were leaving, you know, the snake was coming for us, and so I cast a Blasting Curse, and it rebounded everywhere, and it must have—must have hit—"

"It was an accident," said Elizabeth mechanically. She felt empty, stunned.

"I'm so sorry," said Hermione, tears trickling down her face.

"Well," she said finally, "I'll just borrow yours for now, then. While I keep watch."

Her face glazed with tears, Hermione handed over her wand. Before Elizabeth exited the tent, she turned to Ron and said quietly, "Wake him up, will you?"

She sat down against a tree and leaned against it heavily. She closed her eyes, but still could not stop the tears from running down her face. Without her wand, she felt lost, hopelessly lost…

She heard Emmett kneel in front of her, but did not open her eyes until her felt him cup her face and wipe her tears away with his thumbs. His eyes held deep concern, worry, relief, fear—a tirade of emotions that almost made Elizabeth dizzy.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," Emmett whispered before he lifted her up and sat her on his lap. He cradled her close with her head resting against his chest.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth whispered, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling up to his comfort. "I'm so, so, so sorry…"

* * *

><p><strong>And there it is! I'm so, so, so sorry for the long wait, but… well, you know why I can't update often. I hope you all enjoyed!<strong>

**Review!**

**-Siriusly Insane Chick**


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